Day by Day
by WishfulWriting
Summary: One mistake can lead to another, as usual for Jesse. Features Jesse, Walt, Mike, Gus. Setting sometime around S4.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: I have not written in quite a long while... However, with a favorite show that currently has no new episodes to keep me happy, I've decided to put together some stories of my own. I've written quite a bit to this one already, so as I edit, I will post additional changes rather quickly. It is mostly Jesse centric. Characters are Jesse, Walt, Mike, Gus so far. Comments, suggestions are welcomed.

* * *

"Jesse."

Jesse heard the sound of the voice, but the actual connotation, the fact that it was his name, didn't sink in. His eyes were locked on the stainless steel counter in front of him. But he wasn't even registering that.

The simple reflection of overhead lights across the shiny surface had initially caught his eye, reminding him of something, which swiftly provoked a memory of a dozen other things. He couldn't even remember what it had initially reminded him of anymore. Now he felt frozen, drowned by his current thoughts in a way that paused all other senses. For a moment he was somewhere else, a prisoner to his own demons.

"Jesse." Footsteps followed now and he wondered why the noise sounded like he was in a tunnel.

His reverie was quickly interrupted when he felt the sharp slap of Walter White's hand upside the back of his head.

"Hey," Jesse yelped, turning to glare at the man. "Yo, what gives?"

"What gives?" Brow furrowed, Mr. White stood in front of him now, arms crossed against his chest. "Jesse," he repeated. "Are you deaf?"

Jesse rubbed his head irritably, glaring at Walt as he brought himself back to the the present. Back to the lab, back to the fact they wore matching orange jumpsuits, and were there again to repeat the repetitive process of manufacturing meth. Get with it, he told himself. Quit tuning out. He was back. "What do you want?" He frowned. He met Walter's eyes briefly and then looked away at the stainless steel counter again. What did it remind him of?

"Are you done daydreaming?" Walt's voice was stiff, annoyed. "I've been calling you for the last ten minutes."

That was an exaggeration, of course, but rather than argue, Jesse heard the words "Sorry, man" coming out of his own mouth before he could think about it.

"Just wake up, Jesse. Two man process. Two."

"I'm working," Jesse objected. "I was just thinking for a second."

"You're not working," Walter countered. "And a second, by the way, was more like ten minutes. Quit daydreaming on my time."

He wasn't daydreaming. Dreaming? That implied things far more pleasant than the thoughts that had taken control of his mind. He tried to shake off his most recent introspection and a chill went down his spine. There was a thin line between what was real and imagined. Or was it all real? And why wasn't he sure?

"Got it?" Mr. White persisted.

"Whatever." Jesse cleared his throat. "God. I could really go for a cigarette right now." Jesse ran a hand through his hair.

Walt frowned at him. His partner had seemed nothing but distracted recently. He was confusing standard parts of their process that he usually did like clockwork. He was more introverted, zoning out just like this. It was annoying the hell out of him. "What's with you today?"

Jesse looked at him finally, making full eye contact. "What do you mean?"

"You're on a different planet today, Jesse. You've been on a different planet the last few days actually." Walter eyed him suspiciously.

"I'm just, like, tired or something."

Walt watched as Jesse hopped up to sit on the counter. He sat there, legs dangling, palms down flat at his sides. Again his mind seemed elsewhere. He leaned his head back, staring up at the large, industrial lights.

Walt sighed. "We have another two hours. Maybe even a little less. Two hours. Can you snap out of it for that long?" He eyed the bare hands. "Where are your gloves?"

"Three of those bulbs are out." Jesse gestured absently towards the ceiling. He exhaled slowly. "How do you think they even get up there to change them? Like over there?" He pointed at a remote corner of the warehouse ceiling. He wished that his mind could stay on such mundane subjects.

Walt moved forward and took him by the arm, yanking him off the counter roughly. "Can you please snap out of it?" he asked stiffly.

Jesse shook his arm free defensively and moved away, towards the other side of the lab. He did have to snap out of it. He knew that. He didn't like when his mind controlled him like that, when it froze him. He found it harder to control his thoughts recently. But he didn't like being chastised either.

"Answer me." Walt's voice was firm. "I don't want to be here all day."

"Yo, what do you want to hear?" Jesse responded irritably. He hated the tone Walt was using. The tone that made him feel like he was right back in highschool, being chided for being a disobedient student. "I'm here. I'm doing my part. Chill."

Walter eyed him carefully, but moved back to his station as well. He started the next part of the process, occasionally glancing up to ensure Jesse was still engaged. He was noticing more and more these little moments of Jesse's. His mind drifted, his attention was miles away. Originally he tied it to the fact that Jesse had been remaining sober. Perhaps he was waking up to the fact that he could have lucid, meaningful thoughts. That there was a world outside of the perversion of drugs. He shook his head. The kid was frustrating today.

Jesse started whistling as he moved around the lab. Things became more efficient again. But Walt couldn't help but notice Jesse's frequent, and loud, yawns.

Walter waited a moment and then spoke up. "Why are you so tired?"

Jesse wanted to rub his eyes, but couldn't with the gloves back on. Instead he squeezed his eyes closed tightly. "I don't know. Just one of those days, I guess. I need to sleep more."

Walter pulled his safety goggles over his eyes. He adjusted the strap to tighten them. "Is it Mike? I don't even know what little escapades he pulls you into now."

"They're not little," Jesse replied.

"You know what I mean. Working with him in addition to the lab- that's a lot. How often does he call you? That's probably why you're tired."

"No." Jesse enjoyed when Mike included him. He wished it was more often. Those "escapades", as Walt called them, were exciting. Unpredictable. He felt like he was a real part of the team. Trusted. Relied on. He wished he was included in all of what Mike did. He also got some thrill out of the fact that it angered Walt. Walt didn't like the idea of being left out of any part of the process, or being excluded from any information.

"If it's too much," Walt started to say, "you need to say something. Mike doesn't really need you tailing along anyway."

Jesse glared across the room at him. Again, Walt had to go out of his way to phrase things in a way that made Jesse's blood boil. "I don't tail along. I go if he needs me to do something." He knew Walt would love a way to make sure he wasn't part of those runs. It would be another accomplishment in his step to control all of the processes.

"If he needs you to do something like what?" Walt questioned.

There was a skepticism in Walt's voice that made Jesse irritated. "Like extra security. Like keeping an eye out for things. Like that. I help with the pick-ups. The negotiations."

"Negotiations. Really." Walter chuckled to himself. "Okay."

"Yeah, really," Jesse said stiffly. "Yeah, so that's what I do. Yo, why do you care anyway, Mr. White? Huh? It's none of your business... You're being a dick because you're not included."

He realized he had touched on a nerve when he saw Walter hastily pull off his safety goggles.

"It's absolutely my business when it impacts my lab. When it impacts your performance." Walt shook his head. "Don't you understand that? That's because your performance impacts my product. That's when it's my business." His voice was contentious.

Jesse's eyes narrowed. Ignore him, he told himself. Don't get caught up in his words. He's doing it on purpose. He wants you to react so he can try to find more reasons to criticize your involvement with Mike. He's going to get you arguing so he can accuse you of wasting time again. "So what exactly did I do wrong today?" he asked. "What did I do to impact your product?"

Walt looked at him, shaking his head. "Jesse. Don't argue with me."

"I'm not." He kept his voice even. "But you're accusing me-"

"Of nothing. You're getting defensive over nothing."

Jesse remained adamant. "What did I do today to impact to your product?"

"Jesse. How about right now? You're wasting our time. I told you, maybe two more hours. You want to make that three?"

"You're the one that brought it up," Jesse insisted. "Tell me how I'm 'impacting your product'."

"Jesse. You're not, okay? Just forget it. But you said it yourself. Today, you're tired. You're slow. You keep spacing out. It's not the first day you've been like this. And if you want to get really into details, don't forget that an hour ago you dropped and wasted a full bag of-"

"That was an accident!" Jesse exclaimed. Why did Walt have to notice every misstep? In fact, that's all he ever noticed. "And it wasn't a full bag. You've never spilled anything?"

"Go back to work. Conversation's done."

"Mr.-"

"Jesse, listen to me. Go. Back. To. Work." Walt spoke the words evenly. He met Jesse's eyes. The deep blue of Jesse's gaze looked cold, angry. But behind his gaze he saw disappointment as well. He reminded himself to be careful with his words. Be gentle, he told himself. "Jesse. You're being too defensive."

"I'm not, Mr. White." Jesse turned back to the task in front of him, his actions forceful, irritated. "Because you're acting like I messed up something. I didn't do anything wrong today. And this batch is the same as every other batch."

"It is," Walt agreed.

Despite the agreement, Jesse felt betrayed. Moments like this, he felt tempted to just walk out. That was his usual method to fix the situation: run away. If he was messing up so much, then Walt could cook on his own. But the temptation of walking out scared him. At some point it would undoubtedly lead to an even bigger argument, where he would be blamed for leaving. Then it risked Mike and Gus getting involved. He muttered to himself, and started to walk towards the clothing rack, where his jacket and Mr. White's clothing were hanging.

"What are you doing?" Walt asked.

Jesse reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his Ipod. Headphones were in the other pocket and he reached for them as well. He connected them to the Ipod and pushed the earbuds into his ears. "I don't want to listen to you anymore today," he told Walt pointedly.

Walter rolled his eyes. "Sure." He shook his head as Jesse pressed the play button. He could hear the sound of the music, some kind of metal or rock, from across the room. He wanted to remind Jesse of the fragility of his eardrums, but stopped himself. That would just drive Jesse further over the edge. They could get by in the next two hours without speaking. Of course.

He watched Jesse return to his part of the process with an air of stubbornness.

Walt reminded himself not to get aggravated. He knew whenever he mentioned Jesse's involvement with Mike that the conversation got heated. Jesse felt some kind of pride in the fact he was included in these "missions". To Walt, his best understanding was that Mike included Jesse to check in on him. Ensure he was keeping himself clean so he could report back to Gus. There was no way that a seasoned veteran like Mike would need a scrawny twenty-five year old smart aleck as a partner. Besides, the missions, as far as Walt knew, involved pick-ups and drop-offs. Standard, mundane tasks with more driving than action. Jesse's mention of "negotiations" was just another exaggerated way of trying to make the tasks seem more important.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and turned back to work.

* * *

That night, Jesse had just drifted off to sleep in his bed when he was startled awake by the sound of his phone.

Groaning, he opened his eyes and turned to view the phone on the bedside table. It was moving slightly by itself, as it vibrated insistently. The ringtone screamed at him.

Who? he wondered as he rubbed at his eyes before reaching over to grab the phone.

He flipped it open and murmured into the mouthpiece. "Yeah?"

"Kid." It was Mike. "You awake?"

"I am now..." Jesse eyed the digital clock next to his bed. Two-thirty in the morning. He started to whine, "Mike, it's two fucking thirty in the-"

"I'm outside."

"What?"

"Get dressed. Come on."

"What?" he repeated.

"Kid, come on. I told you- this is part of the job. You have to be ready twenty-four hours a day."

"But I-"

"But nothing. Get yourself together. I'm leaving in two minutes, and if your ass isn't in this car, then-"

"Okay, okay. I'm coming." Jesse was already standing, looking around his room in confusion. He moved to turn on the light. Two minutes.

Mike had already hung up and he tossed his phone on the bed as he scrambled to find clothes. Jeans. Okay. T-shirt. Looks clean. Okay, one minute left.

By the time he made it outside, he knew more than two minutes had passed and expected an earful from Mike. He hastily smoked a cigarette on his way to the car. The old Lincoln had its windows rolled down, engine idling impatiently.

Mike eyed him as he approached the car with a cocked head and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "Jesse. Come on, kid. We don't have all day."

"Day?" Jesse muttered as he tossed the cigarette on the curb and crushed it out with his sneaker. He had been so rushed that he hadn't even tied his laces yet. "This isn't day. This is like, night, or morning, or some kind of ungodly combination." He climbed into the car.

Mike was already pressing the gas before Jesse could fully shut the passenger door.

"What if I didn't pick up?" Jesse asked.

Mike glanced at him, before making a right turn onto the next street. "Then I guess I would have had to go upstairs."

"What if I wasn't home?"

"I knew you were home."

Of course he did. Somehow that didn't surprise him. Jesse was silent for a minute. He eyed the clock. It was now two-forty-five. "Where are we going?"

"About twenty minutes north." Mike cleared his throat. "You'll see."

"Anything I should know?"

"Nope. Nothing in particular. This one is pretty standard."

"But why this time of day?"

Mike eyed him. "Kid, you're asking way too many questions for three o'clock in the morning..."

Jesse yawned and reached for the radio knob.

"Stop, it's too early for noise."

Jesse's hand dropped to his lap. He yawned loudly.

Mike ran a hand over his bald head, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. "And tie your shoes, will you? You're already a liability as it is..."

Jesse was never surprised at the small details that he noticed. Mike, Gus, even Walt - these guys all had this uncanny common sixth sense for attention to detail. It was unreal. Sometimes he tried to make himself think that way; to try to think two steps ahead or to notice the unstated details. Then he found himself focusing so much on the possibilities that he missed what was right in front of him.

He raised his feet up to rest them on the glove compartment door and started to tie them. "You know, I wasn't really expecting to get a call from you tonight. Especially at this hour."

"I wasn't expecting to call you," Mike admitted. "But this is good. You need the experience." He glanced over. "But come on, kid. Get your muddy shoes off my car."

Jesse tied the second knot and dropped his feet to the ground. He rubbed at a smudge of dirt that was left behind. "I need sleep though," he said. "I mean, Mike, yo. I feel like I'm running on empty. It's like, what about tonight? How do I do this, and then show up to the lab?"

"That's between you and Walter."

Jesse let out a deep sigh. Yeah, that would go over well. Sorry, Mr. White, I can't make it to work today because I was out all night doing drops with Mike like you hate. After the conversation earlier that afternoon, he couldn't do that. Walter was looking for any reason to put a stop to Jesse's time with Mike.

"This is the first time I've called you this week," Mike reminded. "You want me to deliver the message back that you can't even handle once a week?"

"No," Jesse said quickly. "No." That was the opposite of what he wanted.

They stopped at a red light. "Look in the glove compartment," Mike instructed.

Jesse shifted forward in his seat and dropped the door of the compartment open. He eyed the gun inside and then looked at Mike. "A gun."

"Take it." Mike smirked as Jesse's face lit up. He eyed the still red light for minute and then looked back at Jesse. "Give it to me for a second."

Jesse handed it over and watched Mike smoothly open up the barrel.

"Like this," Mike said.

"I know how to do it." Jesse reached his hand out and Mike returned it to him. He wondered what this meant. What kind of deal would this be, if they needed guns and it was three in the morning? Mike seemed too calm. He noticed the barrel was empty.

Mike pointed at the open compartment again as the light turned green. "Look- see the small bag there." He pressed the gas pedal. "That's got the bullets. You remember how to load it?"

"Of course," Jesse responded. He held the small bag in his hand and felt the weight of the bullets inside.

"Good. So get that baby loaded. But keep the safety on, and try not to shoot your dick off in the meantime."


	2. Chapter 2

Hours later, surprisingly awake, even energized, and still comfortably full from the breakfast that had followed the four hour jaunt with Mike, Jesse found himself back at the lab. He was there before Walt, and was halfway suited up when the older man walked in.

Jesse looked up as he heard Walt enter. "Hey, morning, Mr. White."

"Good morning... You're earlier than usual," Walt responded as he came down the stairs slowly. "I didn't see your car outside."

Jesse cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. I know." He paused and looked up, eyeing Walter's expression. This should be fun if Walter was in the same bad mood as the previous day. "Mike dropped me off this morning."

Walter looked a little surprised but then his face quickly returned to stoicness. "Some business you had to attend to?" he guessed. He walked towards Jesse and as he took his jacket off.

"Yeah," Jesse confirmed. "We had, uh, some stuff that we needed to take care of real early this morning. Like, way out in the desert."

"Really? That early?"

"Yeah. It was cool actually... Involved guns and all." Jesse watched Walt's face for any sign of reaction. Jesse was proud of his morning, but Walt looked unphased. He wouldn't mention that the gun involvement consisted of Mike lining up tin cans in the distance and coaching him on how to aim. In fact, that had been a full hour of their morning. Other than that, the morning consisted of about an hour of driving, and an hour of the usual pick-ups. But couldn't Walt even acknowledge any of it? "Yo, did you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard you," Walter answered. He hung up his jacket. "So early mornings now too?"

"It's whenever they've got stuff going on," Jesse replied with a shrug. "Early morning though - never really thought about it, but it's actually kind of friggin' cool. I saw the sunrise. Over the desert. Have you ever watched the sunrise over the desert?"

"Actually, yeah. It is a pretty sight." Walt didn't imagine that Jesse was frequently up early enough to catch many sunrises over anything.

He could see that Jesse was rather pleased with himself and wondered why Mike bothered to manipulate his ego. It made him suspicious. Wasn't his goal just to make sure Jesse was clean? Why all this extra-curricular activity? He acknowledged that keeping Jesse feeling useful probably did help keep him out of trouble. "Did you get any sleep after all of that?"

Jesse frowned. "A little." Did falling asleep on the half hour car ride back count? Sure it did. "Not much," he admitted.

Walt looked unamused as he pulled over a chair to sit and off his shoes. "Are we going to have a repeat of yesterday?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jesse began to feel defensive. He had considered not telling Walt at all about his morning. But the excitement of it, and the explanation for why he didn't have his car, made it hard to keep a secret. He wasn't good at secrets. Yesterday, he'd been distracted, true, and combined with Walt's irritability that day, things had been heated. Today he felt more refreshed, despite the lack of sleep.

"I don't mean anything, Jesse... It's just that you're basically telling me you were up all night." Walt shook his head and tossed his shoes to the side. "You know what I mean. You need sleep, son... It's not healthy. Yesterday it was like you were just going through the motions..."

Jesse debated telling Walt that he hated the lab, that it had gotten incredibly boring, and he would go crazy without at least seeing some of Mike's side of the business.

"Why do I even tell you anything?" Jesse muttered. "Yesterday, you were kind of a dick. What was it you used to say in class? Oh yeah - if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all. So yeah - follow your own advice and don't be a dick."

Walt laughed. "You're funny." He pushed back the chair and stood up. "Look, I'd rather that whatever you do with Mike not conflict with the lab." He shrugged. "So if you want to stay up all night and you can still function here when I need you, then that's your prerogative."

"I'm doing what Gus and Mike ask me to do to support our mutual business venture," Jesse retorted. "I'm sure they'd be happy to know that you don't have an issue with their... prerogatives."

Walt chuckled again. "Do you ever see Gus?"

"Sometimes."

"How often is sometimes?" Walter reached for his hazmat suit.

"Not often," Jesse conceded. "The dude's wrapped up in his chicken place too. When I see him, then it's, like, something mad serious is going on or he really needs something urgently."

"Do you speak with him?"

Jesse gave him a curious look. "Usually Mike does..." 'Usually' meaning that the rare times he did see Gus, the two of them sent him to wait somewhere out of earshot.

"Don't you wonder what they're talking about?"

"Of course."

"And Mike doesn't tell you?"

Jesse hesitated and then admitted, "No." Whenever he asked Mike, he got the disapproving 'too many questions' look, which shut him up.

Walter pulled the zipper up on his suit. "Just be careful. Agendas can change."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "Agendas can change. What's that even supposed to mean?"

"Very simply it means to be careful who you trust."

"Is this about Mike again, Mr. White?" Jesse demanded. "Are you serious? Jesus. You have such a stick up your ass."

"Just be careful, Jesse. That's all I'm saying." Walter shook his head. "Nothing to get upset over."

"You act like we can't trust anybody outside of just the two of us," Jesse answered in exasperation. "Every fucking time I bring him up, you're all like, 'oh, be careful'. What gives?"

Walter gave him a reproachful look. "Jesse," he started, "I'm not sure trusting anybody outside of the two of us is really that wise at this point. Do you think they trust us?" He jerked his head towards the surveillance camera overhead.

Jesse chewed on the inside of his lip. He knew Walt was right. Things could change with Gus at any moment. There was always that risk. And the cartel could cause trouble as well. It was definitely true that they always needed to be careful and ready for whenever the next change might come. But the way Walt positioned his argument, specifically targeting his time with Mike, annoyed him.

"I don't know. I trust Mike," he said finally.

Walt raised his eyebrows. "Okay..." he said sarcastically. Fully suited up, he started to walk towards the middle of the lab. He realized it was probably wise to move past the conversation and just cook.

"Why not?" Jesse insisted. When Walt remained silent, he continued, "Yo, he's working for Gus just like we are!"

Snapping on a pair of gloves, Walt responded calmly. "Jesse, you are free to trust anyone that has earned your trust."

Jesse caught on immediately. Mike hadn't earned his trust.

Walter glanced up and met his eye. Jesse didn't look angry, but disappointed. But Walter didn't regret his words. Mike rubbed him the wrong way. Like he was playing two sides. He knew Jesse had fallen into trusting him somehow, maybe from the positive reinforcement, or whatever else happened when the two of them disappeared together, but Walt wasn't convinced. In his mind, everyone should be considered dangerous.

Should he remind him that Mike was only keeping tabs on him with these excursions?

No, he warned himself. Drop it. You can only protect him to a certain point and then he has to realize on his own.

"Whatever, Mr. White," Jesse finally responded. "You're free to not trust anybody that hasn't earned your trust."

"Exactly," Walt answered. "Trust whoever we want to trust. Let's cook."


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse leaned his head against the window of the passenger's seat in Walt's Pontiac Aztek, watching the houses go by, one after another. He wondered about the families inside and realized he didn't know much about his neighbors. Were they happy families? Dysfunctional families? How many of them had secrets? Secrets as big as his? Maybe even bigger...

He straightened in his seat as he saw the houses become more familiar. "Do you know your neighbors?"

Walter kept his eyes on the road, drumming his fingers gently against the wheel to the light rock on the radio. "What do you mean?"

"You know. Like their names and stuff?"

"Yeah," Walter responded. "Actually I do." He glanced at Jesse before returning his eyes to the road. "Especially the ones in the immediate vicinity... Of course I know them."

"Interesting..." Jesse responded. He smirked. "I guess they don't really know you..."

"Jesse, I've lived in that house for seventeen years. You get to know your neighbors in that time."

"Yeah," Jesse agreed. "But do you really think they would suspect you of cooking meth? I mean, come on, Mr. White, they don't know you that well."

Walt shook his head. "Even my own wife didn't know, remember."

"Well, then she didn't know you that well either."

"Enough."

Jesse shrugged. "I don't know any of my neighbors. Like... not one. I mean, I see them outside sometimes. I know that one on the corner is a bitch. He leaves notes in everyone's mailbox about things he wants to change in the neighborhood. Isn't that illegal? To put stuff in people's mailboxes?"

"I don't know," Walter sighed. Jesse's words repeated in his head. He was right. It was interesting that none of his neighbors, his friends, no one, would suspect him of what he was doing... He thought about that dynamic of his life occasionally.

"I think it's illegal."

"Don't you think it's a little hypocritical for you to ponder the legality of your neighbor's actions..." Walt mused.

The rest of the cook had been uneventful, and Walter was relieved of that. Because it was a repetitive process, being in the lab left a lot of time for introspection. That got him thinking about a lot of things. Family, his health, the business... He was usually thankful that most times these deep thoughts and ponderings were interrupted by Jesse's incessant chatter. It seemed Jesse couldn't be remain quiet for too long a period. Today was no exception and had been a mix of silence interrupted by Jesse's blathering on about some new "Resident Evil" movie or game. As he had gone on and on about some disgustingly gruesome scene, Walt found himself thinking about whether Walt Jr. watched these sensationalized violent movies with his friends. Probably.

Considering the real life brutality and gore that they had dealt with in their partnership, he didn't feel the same concern over Jesse watching it. He figured once someone had dissolved bodies in hydrofluoric acid, had killed, then watching some violent movies wouldn't have that much of an impact on them.

He slowed his car as they reached Jesse's house.

"Yo, thanks for driving me home, Mr. White." Jesse stared at his car parked outside of his house. He played with the edge of his seatbelt for a minute before turning to view Walt in the driver's seat.

"Sure, Jesse." Walt was looking at something down the street, not really paying attention. He looked tired. "Of course."

A moment of silence passed. Jesse listened to the sound of the car's engine humming. "You want to come in for a little bit?" he asked.

The question caught Walt off guard. "Come in? Your house?"

"Yeah. Like, hang out?"

"Hang out?" Walt echoed. He eyed Jesse warily. He was about to decline and say something about Skyler expecting him or plans he had made, but hesitated. Jesse knew he had been spending most nights at the condo now so it might seem like a shallow answer. He couldn't be too quick to say no. There was always this hint of loneliness behind Jesse's words now when he asked something like this. It was only intermittent occasions that he asked, but Walt realized he always turned him down. He wished turning him down was easier. "Don't you need to sleep? You were up all night."

"Yeah, I will, but I thought you could come in and just, like, have a beer and... I don't know," Jesse said. "Do what normal people do."

Walt really wanted to say no. He wanted to drop Jesse off and head home. But something inside of him made a strong argument. Outside of the lab, the job, Jesse was constantly alone. Unless he was with those numskull friends of his, which wasn't much better. What was the harm in spending twenty more minutes with him?

Finally Walt nodded. "You know what? Sure. A beer sounds good actually. You have beer?" He remembered looking in Jesse's refrigerator not long ago and seeing nothing but a stick of butter and a soiled looking pizza box.

"Yeah," Jesse said.

"Sure then. I'll have a beer." Walt didn't miss the smile that flashed across Jesse's face. He looked for a place to park.

Minutes later he found himself in Jesse's house, on the couch, being handed a cold bottle of Sam Adams. "Thanks."

Jesse took a swig from his own bottle as he walked over to turn on the TV. Local news filled the large screen. "You want to play any games or anything?" He waved his arm towards a small tower of video games on his floor.

"Um, no." Walter shook his head. "Just the beer." He eyed the number of games. "Junior would be very jealous of your... collection."

"So buy him more," Jesse responded with a shrug. "Not like you can't afford it."

Buy his love, Walt thought wryly. He wondered if Jesse's parents had tried that with him. He looked around the room and found it surprisingly neat. "The place looks good, Jesse."

Jesse dropped onto the couch beside him and glanced between Walter and the news on the TV. Something about a car accident. "Yeah, thanks. I've been trying to keep it, you know, clean."

"And yourself." Walt reached over to squeeze Jesse's knee. "It's good, Jesse. You're doing good these days." He took a sip of his beer and looked at the TV.

Jesse felt a small surge of pride in his chest. It wasn't very often that Walt actually told him he was doing something good. Especially after being admonished at the lab earlier for 'going through the motions' and daydreaming on the job. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a bong on the floor, sitting next to his games. Fuck. He hoped it would go unnoticed.

"And your friends? Hedgehog, or, what was his name? And the skinny one."

Jesse laughed. His eyes stayed locked to the TV. "Badger," he corrected. "Badger and Skinny Pete." He shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, they're good and all. I don't really see them too often now."

"Probably better," Walt answered.

Jesse pushed himself up off the couch and walked across the room. "Yeah, but they're clean too right now." He paced a little bit, walking to the edge of the room and took another long sip of his beer. "They're actually doing okay. Last I talked to them anyway."

Walter watched him pacing. Jesse always had this sense of nervousness, anxiety. He wondered what Jesse did when he was by himself. What would he have done if he declined coming inside to have a beer? Played these games? Watched TV? It was somewhat of a mystery to him. He watched him continue to slowly walk back and forth. Walt had his family, he had a life outside of the lab. What about Jesse?

"What's the matter?" he finally asked, growing tired of Jesse's nervous energy.

"Nothing," Jesse's response was automatic.

"So sit. What are you pacing for?"

"I don't know." Jesse returned to the couch and sank into his seat. He placed his beer on the table in front of him.

"Are you nervous about something?"

"No." Jesse shook his head. He wasn't nervous. He was distracted. Is this what normal hanging out was? He was a little surprised Mr. White had even come inside. The majority of the time, he refused any invitation that Jesse offered him. Even though they had just spent hours in the lab, Jesse still felt a need to talk to someone. "I just have these thoughts in my head sometimes."

"What kind of thoughts?" Walt wondered why Jesse had invited him inside. Was it to talk about something? Admit something? He didn't know why Jesse seemed to have some weight on his shoulders, some gnawing anxiety. He was realizing now that there was something on Jesse's mind. Had something happened?

"Just thoughts," Jesse said. He glanced quickly at Walt and then lowered his eyes. "I just always think back on everything... On us and what we do. Even in the lab, when we're cooking, it's thinking about where it's going, and who it's going to, and who it's impacting. We don't even know who the users are. Whose lives we're fucking up. And then I think back on everything that's already done and can't be undone."

Walt sighed. What happened to one beer, twenty minutes, and then heading home? The situation was steering away from that. "You can't think back, Jesse. That's life. You can't think back, because you can't change it. It's all for a reason. If I tried to think about the things I wanted to change from the last fifty years... It's impossible."

"How about just the one year?" Jesse responded. "Don't you think about that?"

"No," Walter lied. "This isn't a business where you can look back. That's part of the deal."

"I do look back though. It's automatic. I mean, how do you not think back?" Jesse sighed. "People have died, Mr. White. Because of us. And the things we've seen. I mean... God. Sometimes I just... And even if I didn't want to think about it, my mind goes there anyway." Jesse rubbed at his face, wishing he could wipe the slate clean. "And Jane... God, Jane... All the-"

"Jesse," Walt interrupted.

"Why-"

"Jesse," Walt insisted. He was not going to go down this path. "Why are you thinking about this now? Listen... You can't think back. It all had to happen, Jesse. We couldn't have avoided any of it. Any of it," he emphasized. "You know that. You don't have to hear it from me." He paused. Did it really all have to happen? Jane. Had Jane had to happen? He shook the thought away. "Why are you even thinking about all of this right now?"

"Maybe because nothing has happened recently," Jesse replied slowly. He lifted his eyes and met Walt's gaze. "And I'm like, is this the calm before the storm? I feel like... we're due for something to happen. Something always happens. And I can't-"

"Jesse," Walt shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. Nothing's happened because everything is in control. We're in control. And the stuff that happened in the past, as terrible as some of it was, it was necessary. You have to understand. It doesn't mean it has to happen again. But it was all for a reason. But we couldn't have prevented it."

"No. We could've," Jesse protested. "We could've. Some of it had to happen maybe. But not all of it, Mr. White. And that's all I think about."

"Everything was out of our control," Walter insisted. Why was Jesse delving into all of this?

"So we're in control or we're not in control?" Jesse insisted.

"You know exactly what I mean, Jesse. You need to stop thinking like this. It's not the first time we've talked about this. You put yourself in this pattern of going in circles with it."

"But I think about it all the time. It like, eats at me." Jesse rubbed at his face again. "There's no way to erase these thoughts. I think about it all the time. I see their faces."

"Jesse, I don't know what to tell you. What happened, happened. You are not the bad guy. Do you hear me? None of it was because of you." Walt watched Jesse slouch down into the couch, like he wanted to disappear into it. Jesse was far too emotional. It was a hazard to the job in actuality. But Walt didn't know how to harden him.

Jesse took a deep breath. He heard Walt's words, but they didn't make that feeling in his gut go away. Did Walt really have no regrets? "Before it was easier. When I..." he glanced nervously at Walter. "...was using. I wasn't thinking about this stuff... It was cloudier. It was easier to deal with. I could think about it, but it wasn't like this."

"Jesse."

"I know it sounds awful, but I miss it sometimes." Jesse ran his finger over the edge of the couch cushion. "It's hard to get that same release..."

Something about Jesse's words gave Walt a chill. Gus's words played in his head. Once an addict, always an addict. Though in the past he might have agreed, he was convinced Jesse didn't have to fit into that category.

"You're a hundred times better off without it," Walter responded carefully. "And if you're thinking about going back to-"

"No." Jesse's voice was firm. He looked pointedly at Walt. "No. That's not what I meant. It's just an observation. Sometimes it was easier."

"Do you think about using again?"

"No."

"Never?"

Jesse gave him a look of disdain. "No. Jesus. I told you that's not what I meant."

Walter eyed him suspiciously. "Because if you are, I would have you back at rehab so fast your head would spin."

"Come on... I didn't mean it like that," Jesse sighed. "I'm just being honest."

Walter wasn't sure if he believed him. He knew Jesse thought about it. And working in the lab was a huge temptation. Back when they first started cooking together, it was a constant struggle to stop Jesse from smoking their product. It seemed nothing could convince him why it was a bad idea. Now, though he'd grown up a bit, cleaned cleaned himself up, Walt still wondered. They dealt with massive quantities now. There were times that he wanted to pat Jesse down before letting him leave the lab. But he hadn't brought himself to that yet. He gave him the benefit of the doubt.

But it made him wonder...

"If I looked around your house right now," Walter began, "would I find anything?"

Jesse looked at him in surprise. "What?" he asked. "No. No, of course not." He felt his blood grow cold.

"Really?" Walter raised his eyebrows. "Nothing?"

Jesse's brow furrowed and he looked at Walter strangely. "What, you think I'm using or something? False! Don't be a bitch. Jesus..."

"No, I don't think you're using," Walter conceded. "But that wasn't my question. My question was whether you have anything in this house."

Jesse threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Are you serious?" His mind raced. He tried to think where any old stash would be.

"Yes or no, Jesse?"

"No!" Jesse exclaimed. "Jeez, Mr. White."

Walt watched his expression. Jesse looked nervous and a little agitated. "You don't sound so sure."

"I'm sure there's nothing. I'd know, don't you think? It's my fucking house." Jesse's eyes widened as Walter put his beer down and got to his feet. He jumped to his feet too. "Mr. White," he started. "Wait."

They stood face to face. Jesse suddenly felt like a child. He tried to remain firm and stared straight into Walt's eyes. "You could search for hours. Invite your God damn DEA brother-in-law over for all I care. You won't find anything." He tried to say it with conviction.

"You know, it's even worse for you if I do find something and you lied." Walt scrutinized him.

Jesse felt frozen. He tried to keep his tone assured. "I don't have anything."

"You swear."

Jesse swallowed. Mr. White's eyes were drilling into his. He felt like he could see through him but couldn't look away. If he looked away, surely Mr. White would take that as a sign of admission. He felt a huge lump in his throat. "I don't."

"Fine. I believe you. But I'm going to take a look around anyway." Walter eyed him carefully. "Shouldn't be an issue then, right?" He started to walk away.

"Yo, hey, wait." Jesse reached out and grabbed Walt's arm but the older man shook his grip off.

Then Walter pointed at the couch. "Shouldn't be a big deal, right? You sit."

"You're not serious," Jesse responded. "It's my house."

Walter reached out and put his hands on his shoulders. He pushed him back towards the couch and down onto the cushion. Jesse didn't fight him. "Sit down. You have nothing, right? So what are you worried about?"

"Why do you even have to look then?" Jesse persisted.

"It will make me feel better."

"You don't trust me," Jesse accused.

"I trust you."

Jesse suddenly regretted ever inviting Mr. White into his house. His pulse began to race, and he felt his chest tightening with anxiety. He sat there, feeling like a hostage, and watched Walter walk over to the bong, picking it up. Fuck that bong. But that was weed. That wasn't what he was looking for.

With raised eyebrows, Walter placed the bong on the coffee table. "So tell me. Should I look upstairs, or downstairs?"

Jesse eyed him for a moment, and then before Walter could let out another word, he darted off the couch and raced towards the stairs.

"Jesse!" Walter yelled behind him.

Jesse's feet pounded on the stairs. He was already to the top of the landing when Walter reached the first step. By the time Walter reached the landing, Jesse had already locked himself in his bedroom.

Walter suddenly felt angry. He hadn't looked for anything yet, honestly hadn't even planned to do a search. His intention was to see Jesse's reaction, make an impact. Now Jesse's behavior confirmed what he had been afraid of. He knew Jesse was clean- just his appearance and his thought process made that obvious. But the fact he was holding anything in his home made him fearful. In one fragile moment, Jesse could erase the road to recovery in an instant. And then way he'd been talking...

Though Walter knew not to even bother trying the doorknob to the bedroom, he did anyway, confirming the locked door. His fist pounded against the door. "Jesse."

Jesse's voice behind the door was emotional. "I don't have anything!" he insisted.

"No? Then let me in," Walter insisted. "Jesse, open the door."

"No!"

Walter pounded on the door again. "You're acting like a child, Jesse," he snapped sharply.

"I told you I don't have anything!" Jesse responded. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Let me in, then." Walter was frustrated. This stand-off could last for hours. He pounded the door. "Jesse, for God's sake. Come on! I will break down your door if I need to!"

"Fuck off!" Jesse's voice came through the door. "I already told you there's nothing!"

Then why are you hiding, Jesse? Walt wanted to ask. He took a deep breath and leaned his forehead against the door. He was too old for this. Too old for chasing Jesse around, trying to control him, trying to protect him from himself. But there was no one else to do it.

He pounded on the door once more. "I'm warning you, Jesse. In ten seconds, the door is opening, whether you let me in, or I let myself in."

"There's nothing in here!" Jesse shouted.

Walter cleared his throat. "Ten... Nine..."

He heard Jesse's movement inside. He heard drawers opening, closing, the closet door.

"Eight … seven... six..." Walter sighed. "Jesse, I'm serious."

Jesse was silent inside. Movement had ceased.

"Five..." Walter shook his head. This was ridiculous. He stopped counting, stepped back from the door, and landed a heavy kick against the wood. His foot throbbed with pain but he did it again. Two more kicks and the door sprung open.

Jesse stood there in the middle of the room, frozen, and Walter walked towards him furiously. Before Jesse could say anything, and before Walter could control himself, his hand shot out and slapped Jesse across the face. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded. Jesse's hand went to his cheek in surprise. "Really, I'd like to know. What's the matter with you?"

Jesse backed away, eyes wide. "Mr. White..."

"Where is it?"

Jesse stared back at him dumbly. His eyes shined.

"Do I really need to smack you to make you understand?" Walter demanded. "What is the matter with you, Jesse? Where is it?"

"I told you..." Jesse started shakily. "I don't-"

"Enough, Jesse," Walter spat. "where it is? You obviously have something."

He moved towards Jesse again but Jesse quickly darted away.

"Enough with the bullshit," Walter said stiffly. "Give it to me."

Standing several feet away, Jesse remained quiet. He swallowed hard. Each second that passed made him more flustered.

"Jesse," Walter persisted. His tone was weary. He eyed Jesse's flushed face and sighed.

Jesse felt cornered. What choice did he have now? He suddenly realized how much worse he had made the situation. He had basically admitted to it.

He did the only thing he thought he could. With resignation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper bag. He tossed it on his bed and Walter walked towards it.

Walt picked up the bag and pulled it open. Inside he saw the bluish color, confirming his suspicions, and threw the bag back on the bed. "Unbelievable..."

"I took it ages ago," Jesse objected. He started to scramble for words. "I don't even remember when. Mr. White. Honest. I swear to God. I haven't touched this stuff. You know I haven't."

"Jesse..." Walter wanted to throttle him. He slowly walked towards him, trying to rationalize his thoughts. Trying to decide the best way to deal with the situation. He could feel himself pulsing with anger. Don't, he calmed himself. Don't deal with it with anger. Lashing out at him won't change this, Walt... He hasn't used it. You cornered him into this, made him scared of what you both knew was there. Of course he would try to hide it. That's his instinct.

Jesse backed up as Walter approached but was stopped by the wall. He suddenly felt terrified. "Mr. White. Please. Don't." Don't what? he wondered. He realized had no idea what Walt would do.

"Why do you have this in your house?" Walt's voice was low, angry. "Do you know how-"

"I forgot about it," Jesse insisted. It was the truth. How to explain though? As Walt approached he began to falter. "I forgot. Until you asked, I hadn't even thought about it! It was just there. I haven't touched it!" He felt his emotions rising. His eyes watered and he urged himself not to be a baby. Grow a pair and explain yourself, he told himself. The gap closed between them and he pleaded. "Please, Mr. White."

Walter reached him and grabbed his arms. Jesse winced as he held him tight against the wall. He let a moment pass, eyes locked with Jesse's and then spoke evenly. "Why do you have it? Why would you steal it? To use it? To-"

"I don't know..." Jesse whispered weakly. "I told you-"

"Do you have any idea, if Gus knew? What he would do?" Walter closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. He squeezed his arms tightly. He could feel Jesse shaking under his grip. "Jesse, do you have any idea..."

"I know," Jesse whimpered.

Another moment passed. Jesse tried to pull away but Walt pushed him back firmly against the wall.

"Don't bother coming to the lab tomorrow," Walt said pointedly. "Do you understand?"

Jesse shook his head. "No," he said softly.

Walter shook him slightly. "Do not come tomorrow. If you do, I don't know what I'll do when I see you." He dropped his arms and turned around, walking towards the door. "I can't deal with this right now."

"Mr. White," Jesse called out.

His voice went unanswered as Walt walked out of the room without so much of a look back.

Moments later, he heard the front door slam.

Jesse raised his hands to his face. He tried to hold it in but a choked sob escaped. Stupid, Jesse. Why are you so stupid? Why do you always mess things up?


	4. Chapter 4

Jesse sat on his couch morosely. The house was dark aside from than the light from the television. A movie played but Jesse couldn't hear any of it. A few hours had passed since Mr. White left, but it was still difficult to think of anything but what had happened. He blamed himself for the chain of events. He had been stupid. Even if he had let Mr. White poke around, chances were that he never would have seen the bag sitting on the floor of his cluttered closet.

In fact, more likely, maybe it had all just been a test. A threat to gauge his reaction. Even better. Failed another one of Mr. White's fucking tests. Just like high school all over again.

Why are you so dumb, Jesse? Why did you basically just confess everything to him? His trust was going to be zilch now.

He hated himself for opening up so much to Walt as well. Recently, he was having a hard time managing his thoughts, rationalizing certain things that had happened and how his role could have been different. He couldn't understand how Walt seemed to have no regrets, not even a remote sense of any guilt on his conscience. Jesse's conscience was drowning him.

Whenever he tried to bring it up, Walt cut him off. Told him not to think about it. Well, what was he supposed to think about instead? He couldn't choose what to think about. One thought led to another. He couldn't choose his dreams. Walt constantly told him that it all had to happen, that it was all for a reason. What reason? So that they could live? He didn't believe that. Some of it yes; he would agree. But not all of it.

But Walt never wanted to talk about.

The problem was, he had no one else he could talk to about it. Walt was the only one that had been there, had any idea what had happened. Walt was the only one that could understand the scope of what had happened, every revolting minute of it. In fact, Walt was the one that had made him do some of the things he regretted.

Like Gale.

He squeezed his eyes shut. That was the piece he tried to avoid the most. He much preferred remembering Jane, as much sadness as it brought to him. With Jane, there were also happy thoughts.

But Gale.

His chest tightened. The familiar feeling of dread came back, hitting him like a punch in the gut. He suddenly felt nauseous.

He didn't even know him.

Stop, Jesse. He urged himself not to think about it, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. But instead of seeing darkness, he saw a flash of Gale's face.

He gasped for air, opening his eyes, looking around the room.

You're alone, Jesse. Snap out of it.

He took a deep breath, trying to think of other things, and reached out for the bong on the table in front of him. He raised his lighter.

Is this how he was going to spend his night? Sitting here again thinking about everything again, every fucking detail, while trying to mask his thoughts by getting high?

He told himself not to feel bad about getting high. It was only weed. Fuck, even Mr. White had smoked weed. If he could take the stick of his ass long enough to take a hit occasionally in his life, it couldn't be that big of a deal. Still, he knew Walt would probably give him hell if he saw him smoking.

He took a deep breath and held it.

Gale.

No, stop. STOP. This is what Walt means. This is why you can't think about it. The thoughts become this whirling rage of memories, like a purgatory of nightmares, and you're frozen. Fear, disgust, what? Everything. All emotions at once.

Maybe he really was going to puke.

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke.

That was slightly better. This slight but increasing feeling of detachment.

He put down the bong and rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

And tomorrow, what was he supposed to do? Did Walt really mean it? Not to come to the lab? Was he really not supposed to come? Or maybe that another test as well? Was it some kind of punishment to make him stay away? Maybe by tomorrow he would cool down.

Cool down? You stole from the lab, Jesse. That's probably the worst thing you could do at the lab. Probably exactly what Walt feared you'd do.

Jesse wished Walt hadn't stormed out of the house. He was angry, understood, but still... Jesse wanted to talk about it. There was no one else to talk to.

He reached for the bong again.

He debated calling him. Trying to explain himself again. But after thinking it over, he realized it would probably make things worse. It was too soon. And if Walt happened to be at home, instead of the condo, then forget about it. Then he would only be even more furious that he was calling him. Besides, his cell was probably off and there was no way he would call his other line.

A moment later, Jesse's phone began to ring and he jumped in his seat, startled by the sudden noise. He wanted to ignore it at first, fearful that maybe it was actually Mr. White calling him. Though he had just considered calling himself, he realized now he didn't really want to talk to him. He didn't feel like being yelled at again. He couldn't handle any more of that tonight.

He picked up the bong and raised the lighter again.

Water bubbling, he was halfway through another long hit when the phone began to ring again. He held his breath, closing his eyes, before exhaling slowly. He eyed the smoke in front of him and finally reached for his phone.

He glanced at the caller ID. Not Mr. White.

He flipped it open. "Yeah."

"Last minute request from the boss," Mike's voice came over the line.

"Okay." Jesse squeezed his eyes tight. He felt slightly lightheaded.

"You home?"

Jesse frowned at the smoke in front of him. "Yeah."

"Fifteen minutes. Be outside."

"Okay."

The line clicked off and Jesse took a deep breath. He didn't want to see Mike. He didn't want to see anyone. He wanted to sit here, smoke weed, and try to calm the fuck down. Try to stop thinking. But maybe this was better. A distraction.

He reached for the bong once more. Good. Distractions.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, with the hood of his dark sweatshirt pulled over his head, he was standing outside smoking, this time a cigarette, when Mike's car pulled up.

He threw the cigarette aside and walked towards the car briskly, hunching his shoulders. It was dark now and for some reason he felt relieved for that. He kept his eyes low as he got into the car, staring at his hands.

"Hey," he greeted Mike. He purposefully kept his eyes averted.

Mike looked at him warily before he started to pull away from the curb. He took in Jesse's posture and his body language. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," Jesse answered quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Alright." Mike glanced at him again. Jesse crossed his arms over his chest, almost protectively. He drove a couple blocks quietly before briefly glancing at him once more. He looked stiff, or nervous. Something was off. "Look at me for a second, will you?"

Jesse frowned, but turned his head to meet Mike's eyes just briefly before turning away again. He stared straight ahead.

"What's with you?" Mike asked. Even with the brief look, it was hard to miss the red-rimmed eyes, paleness, and his overall uneasiness. Something had happened. If not for the appearance, there was also the lack of usual enthusiasm when Mike picked him up. No questions on where they were going, what kind of run it would be...

"Nothing," Jesse responded. "Where are we going?"

There was the usual question, but delivered like he wanted to change the subject. Not like he really wanted to know. "Not far," Mike answered slowly. "Did something happen?"

"No." Jesse's pulse ticked up. Why was Mike asking so many questions? He started to think that the last couple hits had been a bad idea.

A few more minutes passed with silence between them. The residential blocks went by in a blur. Jesse felt Mike's suspicion and he tried to act normal. He tried to act like it was any other day. Why couldn't he go back to yesterday? He watched the oncoming headlights of the other side of the road and noticed they looked fuzzy.

"Can you at least tell me why you reek of weed?" Mike asked calmly.

Surprised and a little uneasy, Jesse looked at him apprehensively. "I don't know." He reached to roll down his window slightly.

"You don't know... Well, kid, in my experience, there's usually there's a pretty obvious answer." Mike scrutinized him.

"I wasn't smoking." Jesse stared out the passenger window intensely. Fuck. He inhaled deeply himself. He didn't smell anything.

Mike sighed and took a turn at the corner. "Are we still hanging onto some bad habits?"

"No," Jesse repeated. He frowned at the patronizing tone of Mike's voice. He was clean. Why was he acting like he wasn't? He did not see the harm in some occasional weed. It was... medicinal. "I'm clean."

"I thought you were done getting high."

"I am," Jesse insisted.

"You want me to report back that you're smoking?"

Jesse scowled. Suddenly he felt irritated. They all treated him like a child. "That's what this is always about, right? Your reports? You take me along so you can make reports about me?" Jesse demanded irritably, raising his voice. He shot Mike a dirty look. "That's why you never tell me dick about what we're doing? It's all about sending reports about me to Gus?" He turned away and leaned his forehead against the window. "Well, go the fuck ahead, bitch. Yeah, I'm smoking the big bad 'gateway drug'. I guess today I fail. So go right the fuck ahead!"

He took a deep breath, realizing his pulse was racing.

Mike eyed him. "You done?"

Jesse made a face but remained quiet.

"Kid..." Mike started slowly. He kept his eyes on the road. "You look like a mess. You want me to take you home?"

"No," Jesse said sharply.

"What going on with you tonight?"

"Nothing," Jesse muttered. His mind raced. What if Mike found out about the crystal in his house? What would happen then? It was one thing for Walt to discover it, but what about Mike? That was a whole new level of trouble. And Gus?

What if Walt said something? But why would he do that? He wouldn't do that.

He tried to calm himself. He was slightly high, yes. He would admit that to himself at least. He had to be careful not to get too anxious.

He could feel Mike's eyes on him. Shouldn't he be watching the road? Then he realized they were stopped at a light. Fuck. Now even Mike wouldn't trust him.

Mike watched Jesse's fidgeting and didn't say a word.

"Where are we going?" Jesse asked, exasperated.

"I already told you... Not far." Mike sighed deeply. "Kiddo, do me a favor, will you? Don't put yourself back on thin ice... It makes my job much harder."

Jesse didn't respond.

"And word for the wise..." Mike continued. "Don't ever let me see you even remotely high... Ever."

Jesse heard the firmness in his tone and suddenly knew Mike was letting it slide this time. He relaxed slightly but kept his head turned away. Jesse wondered at the way Mike kept his cool, no matter what. He realized he rarely raised his voice. It puzzled him. How did someone do what Mike did and always stay calm?

"You understand?" Mike persisted.

"Yes," Jesse responded. He straightened in his seat and toyed the with hem of his sweatshirt. "Sorry."

Mike shook his head for a moment but said nothing else. They drove without speaking for a few more minutes.

Finally, Jesse broke the silence. "Do I get a gun?"

Mike chuckled. "Not a chance in hell."

* * *

The next morning, Jesse sat in his car and took a drag from his cigarette. His hands were shaking again. The outing with Mike had been a good distraction, but now he was back to his guilt. It had been difficult to sleep. One lapse in judgement was causing so many issues. He felt sick to his stomach.

He couldn't get rid of this cloud hanging over him. All he felt was disquiet over what would come next.

He hated himself. He was so stupid. He always fucked things up somehow. And Walt's trust? That was gone now too. Mike's maybe, too. Though Mike didn't even know the real story of why he was out of it the night before.

Stealing the meth had been stupid. It was a cheap thrill the first few times he did it. Small increments, he thought, harmless. At the time it was an excitement, wondering whether Mr. White or anybody would notice, and if they did, what they would do. He had occasionally considered smoking it, then selling it, and then thought about it more until he forgot about it. Well, now here he was. And he hated himself for being in this situation.

It really had been ages since he stole it. Months. But that didn't seem to make any difference.

He was clean. Dammit. Wasn't that the important thing? Shouldn't that be the real focus?

And now here he was, sitting outside of the laundromat in his car, chain smoking. He looked at Walt's car, about fifteen feet away. He thought about the man downstairs, probably already cooking, and how he told him not to come to the lab today.

He took a deep breath. Why was he so scared? At this point, he had two options. He could go into the lab and brace himself for whatever consequences that produced. Or he could wait for Walt to finish, and again brace himself for whatever happened when he saw him.

Both options were terrifying.

He drummed his fingers on his steering wheel nervously. With a sigh, he finished his cigarette, turned the key in the ignition to shut his car off, and pushed open his car door.

Might as well get it over with. Sitting here waiting was going to eat him alive.

Twice he almost turned around before getting to the lab's hidden entrance. Man up, he told himself impatiently. Deal with the consequences. He took a big breath, pausing before going inside.

What was the worst that could happen? Walt wasn't going to kill him. Would he?

Another pang of anxiety hit him like a ton of bricks.

He forced himself forward.

He didn't know how Walt would react.

As expected, Walt had already started the process by himself. The sound of someone entering the lab was hard to miss, and Walt looked up immediately. He looked surprised to see Jesse and gazed up at him for a long moment, saying nothing. As Jesse began to walk further across the platform towards the stairs, Walt turned back to what he was doing.

Okay... Jesse thought to himself. No yelling. No reaction, really. Yet. That was promising. Maybe Mr. White had thought a lot about it too over the night and had come around... He realized that the chances of that were slim. In fact, there were many other times as precedence where Walter White silently mulled things over before letting him have it.

He walked down the stairs slowly, taking deep, even breaths. The suspense was killing him. As he walked over towards Walt, he realized he was starting to sweat. He wanted to get it over with. He'd rather the man just get it all out, react, let him agree that he had been reckless, and then they could get on with their day-to-day routine.

It was obvious Walter wasn't going to start the conversation.

"Hey. Mr. White." He purposely kept a few feet of distance.

"I told you not to come here today," Walt replied slowly, voice laced with annoyance. He wasn't looking at him initially but now turned to face him. "Are you too stupid to even obey that?"

Jesse winced as though the words had been a physical blow. He shoved his hands into his pockets and felt discouraged. "Look, Mr. White," he started tentatively. "I know you told me not to come. But, the way I see it, no matter what happens out there, the lab needs to run. And it runs better with two people. Yo- two person job, remember? And keeping our employer in mind, and the levels he demands, and this-" Jesse pointed up at the security camera, "-I decided that in respect of all of that, I should be here. That's where I'm supposed to be right now."

"So you came because of the cameras."

"No." Jesse rolled his eyes. "Look, I came because I work here too. You're not my boss - they are. And they didn't tell me not to come to work."

"Is that right..." Walter responded. "That's ironic, considering the amount of times you forced me to make this a one-person operation."

Jesse paused. He couldn't argue that. There had been those times. Other lapses of judgment, or when Mike timed needing his help during a cook.

"Point noted..." Jesse acknowledged with a sigh. "So then what is it, Mr. White? What do I need to do to fix this?"

Walt eyed Jesse critically. "What do you want me to say to you?"

"I don't know," Jesse admitted, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. "Whatever you need to say. Can we just get this over with? Get back to... this." Jesse gestured at the lab. "Cooking."

"And that's it?" Walter questioned. He shrugged his shoulders, face without emotion, as if thinking it over. The actions were done in a patronizing way that Jesse hated. "Just move on."

"Yes. Exactly." Jesse rolled his eyes again. "Just move on. Why not?" He was starting to get irritated. Was Walt going to make this as difficult as possible on purpose? Of course he was. Did he want him to get on his hands and knees and beg or something?

Walt shook his head. "Do you think I can really trust you? After that?"

"Mr. White." Jesse spoke softly. "There are fucking cameras, and people watching us. Constantly. And, Mr. White, I told you it was ages ago when I-" he cut himself short, pausing to eye the cameras overhead. He leaned in and hissed, "Yo, it was ages since I took anything!"

"Ages to you, maybe," Walt answered stiffly. "You think it would be ages to them? Besides, how do I know it's the truth?"

Jesse glared at him. "Mr. White... Come on..." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yesterday you also insisted that you had nothing in your house," Walt continued. "That was the truth too, right?"

Jesse sighed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. "Mr. White..." he groaned.

"That was the truth too. It's always the truth, Jesse, right? At that moment, whatever's convenient?" When Jesse didn't answer, he continued. He tried to keep his voice low, just between them. "Do you know where this would put us both, Jesse?" he insisted. "If they knew?"

Jesse made a face. "Jesus. I should have never let you inside my house. Whatever. They don't know shit. Look, are we going to cook today, or what?"

"Maybe they do know," Walter hissed. "Maybe they're just waiting for you to make another mistake, which let me assure you, probably won't take too long!"

Jesse stepped towards him and spoke quietly. "Mr. White, if they knew, I would have heard about it a long time ago. Trust me."

"Trust you." Walt shook his head. "That's the funny thing, Jesse. I can't. You've already shown that to me."

Jesse's frustration heightened. Why did he always find himself in these situations? Where he had to once again prove himself? "You know, Mr. White, what you're not even acknowledging, is that I didn't use it. I didn't touch it! Yo, doesn't that matter at all?"

Walt met his eye. "Do I have to acknowledge it? You know I'm glad you're not using."

"And I didn't even know I had it."

"That I find incredibly difficult to believe."

Jesse let out a disheartened breath. A moment of silence passed and Jesse walked a few feet away, realizing there wasn't much for him to say. Walt would challenge everything, and bring up the issues of 'trust' and 'honesty'. He had been in this position before. But that didn't make this any easier. At the end, he could beg for forgiveness for hours, but it depended on Walt. "So what now?"

Walt hesitated. His anger had subsided, but still he was extremely agitated by the knowledge of Jesse stealing from the lab. He wanted that to be evident to Jesse, who seemed to take the situation far too lightly. In fact, the only emotion he showed was in response to Walt's anger, not to the actual situation itself. Even now, he didn't seem to truly understand the potential impact of his actions.

Walt was too tired to get angry again.

He considered returning to his original stance and telling him to go home so that there would be some sort of consequence. Isn't that what Jesse was testing? Are there any consequences?

He hated to make it seem like he was overlooking the severity of the situation by giving into him too easily. "If you steal again," he began, "there is no strike two. That's strike three, and you're done. Understand?"

Jesse scowled. "Whatever, man..."

"I'm serious. No more."

Jesse glared at him and then held up his hand and placed it across his chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he said facetiously.

Walter shook his head. "You make this so much more difficult than it has to be, Jesse. If you would just follow simple directions." Walt eyed him. "Just tell me one thing, Jesse." Walt paused. "What did you do with it? Do you still have it?"

Jesse frowned. He thought about the bag that Walt had tossed back onto his bed and hesitated. He hadn't even slept in his bed. After Mike dropped him off, he stayed up watching TV and eventually fell asleep on the couch. Jesse couldn't admit he still had it. He was afraid that would get Walt heated all over again and start from square one. So he shook his head instead. "No. It's gone."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Yo, I flushed it!" Jesse insisted in exasperation. He shot a discreet look to the cameras and kept his voice quiet. He cursed silently as Walt turned away, moving across the lab like the conversation was over. He watched as Walt picked up his gloves. "Yo! Did you hear me, Mr. White?" Jesse demanded.

Walt eyed him carefully. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. Suit up, Jesse. I'm done arguing. Let's cook."

Jesse sighed. This was going to be a pleasant cook...


	5. Chapter 5

Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who has left feedback so far, both positive and constructive. I really appreciate it. I do have a tendency to be verbose :) Also, I wrote most of this story before I started posting it so it does need some editing. In addition to posting this chapter, I've also slightly revised the previous chapter to keep the conversation more under control. And to those who have asked, yes, action is on its way...

* * *

Jesse knew he had to get rid of it. But he couldn't bring himself to flush it. When he got home, he initially intended just that. But after standing in the bathroom with the bag of meth for a few minutes, he realized couldn't do it.

Which led to the next best solution.

Besides, he hadn't seen his friend in a while and it was a good excuse.

The look on Badger's face was incredulous when he looked in the bag. He raised his eyes to meet Jesse's with a stunned expression. "Really?"

Jesse shrugged. "I just... need to get rid of it." He leaned back into the couch at Badger's apartment, putting his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. "You want it?"

"Hell yeah, man. Are you serious though?" Badger asked. "Like, all of it?"

"Yeah... All of it. Just take it." He didn't care anymore. It had caused him enough trouble.

"And you want, like, a cut, or what, man?" Badger moved the bag from one hand to the other, as if weighing it. "That's a fucking lot of dough."

"Just take it, Badger. It's on the house." Jesse closed his eyes briefly. When he looked at Badger again, he saw him grinning. "Smoke it, sell it, give it away. Yo, I don't fucking care."

Badger was incredulous. "This is like fucking Christmas, man. Is there a catch? Like is there something wrong with it or something?"

"No catch. I just..." Jesse straightened in his seat and cast his eyes to Badger. "I'm clean right now... Like, business is good... And I don't need... this. I don't need, like, a personal stash. But I had it, so might as well pay it forward, right?"

"Pay it forward." Badger grinned. "Fuck yeah, man."

Jesse gave him a look. "Just... you know. Be discreet... Don't mention my name."

"The blue shit is hot though, Jesse. Like, I can make crazy stacks off of what you just handed me."

"That's good..." Jesse shrugged. "You're welcome."

"You want to..." Badger gestured at the glass pipe laying at the end of his coffee table. "For old time's sake?"

Jesse eyed the pipe. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "No."

"You mind if I... Take a taste?" Badger looked at him quizzically.

"Whatever." Jesse slid his feet off the coffee table and pushed himself up. "Enjoy. I've gotta go anyway."

"Sure." Badger watched Jesse head towards the door. "Later, Jesse. And thanks again."

* * *

By the end of the week, the dynamic in the lab was fairly normal again. Walt hadn't brought up the subject of stealing again. He didn't want to and didn't think he had to. He noticed that Jesse was more careful than usual about his movements in the lab. Walt hoped that the whole thing was a wake-up call. Then he wondered how many close calls Jesse would need before he resolved himself to avoid trouble.

At least this trouble was only between the two of them. It had to. As angry as he got, he would never escalate it. Never. They had to handle it between themselves. No one else could know.

It made Walt uneasy enough to even discuss the subject at the lab. Even with hushed voices, any conversation they had in the lab made Walt wonder who was listening. It forced a habit of cryptic conversation that they had strayed from. They couldn't be sloppy like that.

Walter watched Jesse from across the lab briefly. With headphones on, Jesse was in his routine, cleanly moving through the process. While the week had gone smoothly, there hadn't been much in the way of conversation, as Jesse seemed more amenable when he kept his headphones on. Walt didn't have a problem with that.

It was almost the end of the day when Walt heard the door to the lab opening and peered up towards the entrance in curiosity. Someone to check in on them? It wasn't unusual.

His interest piqued when he saw that it was Gus. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat. It wasn't often they got to see the esteemed Mr. Fring in person.

Especially at the lab.

Jesse quickly noticed the presence of Gus as well and pulled off his headphones. His eyes went from Gus straight to Walt.

"Hello, Gus," Walt greeted, projecting his voice towards the entrance. "It's nice to see you." He glanced at Jesse and found the younger man's eyes locked on him. He saw the fear in Jesse's eyes and raised his hand to him, as if silently telling him to be calm. Don't be afraid.

Jesse's tempered himself but remained on edge. There was something about Gus that always made him apprehensive. Walt always stayed incredibly calm and he tried to convince himself to feel the same.

"Nice to see you both as well." Gus's eyes moved around the lab slowly as if looking for anything amiss. "It's been a while, I have to say." His eyes scanned each piece of equipment before he then looked back at Walt. "Walter. May we have a word privately please? Unless of course, I'm interrupting something time sensitive."

After a brief hesitation, Walt started to pull off his gloves. "No, of course. Just give him a minute and I'll be right there." He gestured at Jesse to come to his station. "Jesse."

"Perfect, thank you," Gus called down. "I will be just outside."

Walt watched Gus retreat from the lab and then turned. Jesse seemed frozen. "Jesse," Walt repeated. "Come here."

"Yeah, I'm coming." Jesse walked briskly, plastic jumpsuit swishing with each step. He whispered tentatively, "Yo, what does he want?"

Walt put his hand on Jesse's arm. "It's okay," he whispered back. "Just stay calm. I'm sure he just wants an update of some kind."

Jesse's eyes remained filled with concern. "Yeah, but what kind of update?"

"Let me find out. Just keep working."

Jesse nodded and Walt patted his arm briefly before heading towards the stairs. He normally would have removed his suit, his boots, everything, to return to normal attire before leaving the lab. But in essence of time, and Gus, he moved up the stairs without any adjustment.

As he exited the lab, he realized how strange it felt to stand outside the lab dressed as he was. He eyed the rest of the laundromat, bustling with activity. No one seemed to even notice their presence.

He felt Gus's gaze upon him and met his eye. Gus, with his unyielding calmness and authority, started to speak.

"Some disturbing information reached me this morning," he began. "And I felt that I should share it with you."

"Okay," Walt responded. His pulse began to race a little, but he remained calm. "What kind of information?"

"It was brought to my attention that late last evening, the DEA recovered a small yet significant amount of product at the site of a drug bust on the east side of town." Gus eyed Walter, watching his expression carefully. "Normally I would not pay attention to these sorts of events. But what struck me as peculiar in this particular case was a certain detail..."

Walt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The color of the product was blue," Gus explained. He took a slow, deep breath. "Blue and significantly pure..."

"Ours?"

"Precisely."

Walt shook his head. "That's impossible."

"I wish that were the case, Walter," Gus responded. "But the information is quite clear and my contact is quite trustworthy. Now, when I heard this, I obviously weighed the possibilities... It could not be a copycat, of course, as we know the rarity, and uniqueness of your formula. It could be old product on the market, perhaps simply a delay in distribution from the period of time that I did not control your product's network. But the third option, and what struck me as a very unfortunate possibility, is whether someone on the inside had decided to take a little extra for themselves..."

"What? No," Walt said quickly, shaking his head. "Of course not, Gus. We-"

"We?" Gus interrupted. "Walter, I trust you. You are not the one I am suspicious of at the moment. And I'm not going to dance around the subject. It's your partner," his finger pointed at the entrance to the lab, "that has caused me more than once to question his necessity in the operation."

"Jesse has nothing to do with it. He would never do that," Walt said stiffly. He felt his stomach turn. "Besides, I spend every moment with him in the lab. I would know." He realized he should have known. He should have known the moment Jesse put anything in his pocket.

"You continue to protect him," Gus acknowledged. "Why I do not know. But he has proven more than once to be weak to temptation. This would not be the first time he compromised us."

"He would never do something like this," Walt repeated. "Jesse is clean. Even Mike should tell you that."

"Mike has confirmed that," Gus admitted with a sigh. "I receive very positive feedback from Mike on Jesse, surprisingly enough. But as I've explained to you before, once a junkie, always a junkie. Don't let his current deference fool you."

"Gus, there is no need to accuse him of anything," Walt responded, shaking his head. "Nothing points to him. He hasn't used and certainly hasn't had any of our product outside the lab. We weigh everything, we check in and out together."

"I'm not accusing him, Walter," Gus allowed. "However, I'm warning you of the need for control and oversight."

"Of course. And we have a very strong system in the lab." He paused for minute, trying to think of ways to reason with Gus. His mind was racing but he would not let that be apparent. "Really thinking about it, Gus, my guess would be it's old product in the market," Walt continued. "Very likely."

Gus raised his eyebrows and looked amused. "As I said earlier, it is a possibility, of course." He paused. "However, I think you have less control over your young partner than you think. Whether he is in fact behind this, I admit that I cannot currently prove. But what I do know is that I cannot run the risk of the DEA heightening their investigation for the source of the blue product. They should not be finding it in any third-party rogue dealers in Albuquerque. I solely control distribution."

"We all know that. And we would never compromise that. We have a deal, Gus. And we're both very serious about that deal." Walter realized he was clenching his fists and relaxed his hands. They had been in a good place with Gus recently. To weaken that trust was dangerous. He couldn't show any signs of culpability.

"If I were to find out that he had something to do with this- and I will find out if that is the case- then there will be some very serious consequences." Gus looked at him without blinking. "And you need to understand that, Walter. I will not have my business compromised. I will not run the risk of any parallel business or theft, right from my lab. Do you understand that?"

"Of course," Walt responded. "Of course. But I guarantee, it wasn't Jesse."

Gus smiled. "I know you'll continue defend him. But I will warn you that surveillance appears to be increasingly necessary. If you cannot control him, I will." Gus adjusted his glasses. "Tighten your leash, Walter. While I trust you, I have unfortunately had my trust forsaken before. I don't enjoy meetings like this. And I hope to not have to repeat this conversation."

"I appreciate you sharing the information," Walt answered. "Any other product out there is a concern to us too."

"Of course. Now I know you need to get back to work. Please, don't let me keep you."

Walter nodded and watched Gus walk away. The man of mystery, the man of power. Walt hated having this person control their every moment, watching them in and outside the lab. He missed their old freedom, but knew they could never handle this level of business without a network like Gus's. Without a cover like Los Pollos Hermanos. Or could they?

He took a moment, collecting his thoughts, trying to avoid some of them, and then returned to the lab.


	6. Chapter 6

Walter re-entered the lab slowly. He immediately felt Jesse's eyes on him, boring into him with questions. Walter had his own questions. The timing of this bust couldn't be coincidental, but he really wanted to believe there was another explanation. What had Jesse done with his stash? He suddenly felt deceived. What was Jesse doing behind his back?

As he walked down the stairs, he kept his temper at bay, fighting the urge to point fingers at Jesse. There were other possibilities. There had to be. Jesse was reckless, but not like this.

"What'd he want?" Jesse asked, eyes wide with concern.

Walter approached, eyeing his partner tentatively. Speak carefully, Walt. Remember the cameras. Surely the video would be watched to see if Walter gave any hint, said anything at all to Jesse.

You're in charge, Walt. Not Gus.

"Yo, Mr. White. What did he want?" Jesse insisted. The delay in Walter's response increased his uneasiness.

Walt cleared his throat and found the lies quickly. "He wanted to know whether we could increase supply a little this week. There's apparently some higher demand at the moment. I told him we could do it. Our levels have been pretty high, so I really don't think it will be a problem."

Jesse frowned. "He had to come in person for that? And why couldn't he just say it right here? In front of me?"

Jesse was more attentive to detail than Walter liked at the moment. "He also just wanted to ask me about my... You know. The status of my treatment." Walt wondered at how easy it was for him to speak completely in fiction. However, the white lie was appropriate; he knew Jesse quieted whenever he mentioned his cancer. He presumed it made him think of his aunt. Or the inevitable future.

"Oh." Jesse paused, a distant look on his face. "Okay."

"Anyway." Walt cleared his throat again. "Let's finish up, okay?" Walter walked over to pull on another pair of gloves. Gus's words repeated in his head, and he tried to push them away. Thinking about it made his blood pressure begin to rise.

"He makes me nervous," Jesse said.

You should be nervous, Walter thought without responding out loud. This conversation had to happen outside of the lab.

* * *

After what felt like ages, they finished for the day and left the lab. Jesse pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and began to turn towards his Toyota when suddenly Walt grabbed his arm.

The cigarettes dropped to the dirt. "Yo, what gives, asshole?" Jesse objected, glaring at him.

"Listen," Walt began firmly. As Jesse tried to pull his arm away, he tightened his grip and pulled him towards him. He kept his voice low. "We need to talk but not here."

Jesse immediately became suspicious. "Is this about Gus? What'd he really say?" He shook his arm and winced. "You dick, ease up! You're hurting me."

"Keep your voice down." Walt let go of his arm. He glanced at the laundromat behind them. "Follow me and we'll go somewhere to talk." He forced his tone to be gentle, yet insistent.

Jesse eyed him undecidedly and felt his chest tighten. "Okay," he agreed.

"Good. Let's get dinner. How do burgers sound?" Without waiting for an answer, Walt turned away and walked to his car.

Jesse's stomach turned. He knew there was more to Gus's visit than Walt had let on, but he was afraid to know what it was. He picked up his cigarettes from the ground and reluctantly headed to his car.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jesse found himself sitting across from Walt in a booth at a loud, dark bar. Walt still hadn't given him any information, and without any facts his imagination ran fearfully wild. The menu in front of him might as well have been in a different language. Food was the last thing on his mind. What he really wanted was a hit. Something to calm his nerves. He would never say that out loud.

Before he could ask Walt what was going on, a blonde waitress approached their table shortly after they sat down, sporting a cheesy smile.

"Hi there, folks," she greeted, speaking loudly over the music and noise of the bar. "My name is Joanna and I'll be your server for this evening. Do you guys know what you want or do you need a few minutes?"

Walt gave the waitress a forced smile and eyed the menu quickly. The quicker they ordered, the sooner they could talk. After a quick glance over the options for food, Walt decided to go the comfort route. "Bacon cheddar-burger for me, and..." He paused before deciding he needed it. "And Johnnie Walker black, on the rocks..." He put down the menu. "Jesse?"

"I'm not hungry," Jesse told him.

Walter eyed his partner carefully for a moment and then turned back to the waitress. "Let's make that two. Two burgers, two scotches."

"Sure," she confirmed, glancing at Jesse curiously before writing down the order on a notepad. "Thanks." She reached for their menus.

As she left, Jesse gave Walt a brooding look. "Sounds like you just ordered ten thousand calories for yourself."

"You'll eat it. You could use the calories," Walter responded wryly.

"I already told you. I'm not hungry. I also don't drink scotch."

"It's an acquired appreciation. All men start one day."

Jesse made a face. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "So what exactly is going on, Mr. White?"

Walt paused, meeting Jesse's concerned eyes. This is your partner, he reminded himself. For better or for worse. You fix this together because it affects both of you. In the ride here, he had considered various ways to approach the subject. His gut reaction was anger over Jesse's risky behavior. He didn't feel like he was dealing with a business partner. Right now he felt like he was working with an insubordinate child. But he had already talked himself out of getting angry. It wouldn't solve anything.

"Gus didn't come by to tell us to increase our product, Jesse," he said slowly. He listened to the noise of the bar around them. He had chosen a loud location purposefully. "He didn't even ask about my health."

"No shit," Jesse answered. "That's why we're here. What the hell did he want?"

"Before I get into that, I just have one important question for you."

Jesse frowned, struggling to see where the conversation was going.

Walt was about to speak when the waitress returned, placing their drinks and two glasses of water on the table in front of them. "Here you go," she chirped before leaving.

Walt was relieved to take a small sip of the scotch before he continued. "You said you flushed the rest of the … product. That you had at home."

"This again, Mr. White?" Jesse objected. He took a small sip of his scotch as well and grimaced. "Jesus Christ. This tastes like lighter fluid."

Walter watched him. "So you flushed it, Jesse?"

"For the hundredth fucking time, yes." Jesse sighed. He pushed the scotch away and picked up the glass of water. "And what the hell does any this have to do with Gus?"

Walt took another sip of his drink and leaned in closer. "Listen, Jesse, we're partners. We need to be completely honest with each other. If you still have it... That's fine." He saw Jesse roll his eyes and continued. "Jesse, really, it's fine. Do you still have it?" He suddenly wished that Jesse still had it. Ironically that would answer everything.

"NO."

"You swear."

Jesse met Walt's eyes briefly. "Yes. I swear. Stop looking at me like that."

"Did you sell it?"

Jesse's eyes flashed with surprise. "What? Fuck no. Of course not. Why the hell would I sell it? I flushed it, asshole. How many times do I gotta tell you this?"

Walt exhaled in exasperation. He felt his patience start to grow thin. "Jesse... Gus came by today," he said stiffly, "because he knows someone else has been selling our product on the street under his nose. And he thinks that someone is you."

"What?" Jesse exclaimed. His eyes widened. "Yo, are you serious?"

"Yo," Walt echoed testily. "I'm dead serious. And I know you didn't flush it, Jesse. Enough with the constant bullshit. Where is it?"

Jesse started to shake his head and spoke apprehensively. "Look, I..." He began to feel the coldness of fear flow through his veins. Did Gus really suspect him of selling on the side? "He really thinks I'm selling?"

"What did you do with it? No more lies." He took in Jesse's uneasy expression. "I won't be mad. I just need to know."

"Fine." Jesse let out a deep breath. His eyes glanced at the rest of the bar. "I don't have it. But I didn't flush it. I... gave it to Badger."

Walt felt heart drop to his stomach. He began to feel agitated. It was Jesse. If Gus could tie this back to him, if he knew it came the lab... "To Badger? Why?"

Jesse rubbed at his face. "I don't know, Mr. White. I couldn't, like, throw it away. I-"

It was too much. Walter slammed his fist down on the table. Jesse flinched as their glasses shook. "You couldn't throw it away? Why the hell NOT, Jesse?" He struggled to keep his voice low and leaned in further. "This is one of the stupidest things you've ever done. Congratulations."

Jesse was frozen. He eyed Walt's darkened look and started to feel unsettled.

"You never think, Jesse," Walt hissed, leaning across the table and pointing a finger in his partner's face. "You just act. And you act selfishly, do you know that? You don't think about any of the consequences. Now you have Gus suspecting you, and rightfully may I add, for distributing HIS product outside of his network."

"It's our product," Jesse said softly, eyes dropping to his hands. 'I won't be mad', Walter had said. Jesse reminded himself to stop falling for that one.

Walt continued to shake his head. "How can I keep convincing them that you're not a risk when you keep acting like this?" he demanded. He balled his hands into fists and cursed to himself. "Jesse, this is a business. There are rules that everyone must follow. How many times do I have to explain that to you before your brain registers it?"

"I got rid of it," Jesse objected. "And I didn't sell it."

"It doesn't matter! You were the means by which it was sold, Jesse!" Walt snapped. "What part don't you understand? Didn't you know he would sell it? Or did you think he'd give it away for free like you were stupid enough to do?"

Jesse raised his eyes and shot him an indignant look. "Stop calling me stupid." His voice wavered.

"Oh, would you call your actions smart, Jesse?"

"I'm not stupid!" Jesse raised his voice.

Walter was about to respond when he saw the waitress approaching with their food. He glanced at Jesse's flushed face and noticed that his chest moving up and down with slow deep breaths. Walt took a deep breath himself.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Jesse murmured.

"Calm down." Walt softened his voice.

Jesse looked up at him with narrowed eyes, suspicious. He then noticed the approaching waitress as well and held his tongue.

The waitress and her smile reached them quickly. She placed their food in front of them and the smell of grease and bacon filled the air. "Here you go, guys," she sing-songed. "Ketchup's on the table. Anything else I can get for you two?"

Walt reached for his scotch and threw back the rest with a gulp. "Another one, please," he said stiffly.

"Sure." She glanced at Jesse briefly before leaving.

Jesse started to slide out of the booth.

"Hey," Walt objected. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Jesse glowered at him. "I need a smoke."

"Not now." Walt's tone was stiff. "Sit."

Jesse eyed him, as if deciding whether to protest, but then sat back in his seat dejectedly.

"I won't waste my time telling you how stupid this was, Jesse, because that won't fix anything," Walt said stiffly. "But we need to decide how to deal with this." He paused. "Look at me." Jesse slowly met his eye with a sullen look, and Walt continued. "We fix this together."

Jesse remained silent.

"As a start, I'll contact Saul," Walt offered. "I need to see what he can dig up about the bust and what the DEA-"

"Bust?" Jesse began. "DEA? What do you mean?"

"I mean all of this information came out because someone was busted with our product."

"I need to call Badger." Jesse reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

"No," Walt snapped. "Enough with your pathetic, junkie friends, Jesse."

"But what if he-"

"What if he was?" Walt challenged.

Jesse's expression changed. "What if he gives them my name?"

"Would he do that?" Walt insisted. "Your pathetic, loser friend would sell you out?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Jesse shot back.

"Jesse."

Before Jesse could respond, the waitress returned with Walt's new drink. He waited until she left and then persisted. "Why don't you just tell Gus it was me? You probably want to."

"Don't be ridiculous." Walt shook his head. "That's the last thing I want. That's why we're having this conversation."

"It would make everything easier for you, right?" Jesse continued. "If you didn't have a stupid partner?"

"You're not stupid," Walt relented, suddenly regretting his outburst minutes before. "You know that."

"You call me stupid all the time," Jesse snapped back. "Do yourself a favor. Just stop trying to help me."

Walter watched Jesse's increasing agitation and sighed. "Listen... This was stupid. Yes. But you're not, Jesse. And this, like everything else, will blow over."

"Blow over?" Jesse echoed skeptically. "You said Gus thinks I'm selling." He lowered his voice. "You think that will blow over? He came in person today because of this."

"So you have to be careful. He'll be watching everything now. You have to think things through, Jesse. It's like playing chess. Think of the potential consequences for the piece you choose to move."

Jesse rubbed at his face tiredly. "I don't know how to play chess."

The response made Walter smirk despite himself. He took another sip of his scotch and closed his eyes briefly. He could control this. He could be the one in charge of this situation. And like he told Jesse, this like everything else would pass. This was part of the job. And Jesse was... careless. At times, stupid. But he wasn't malicious. He wasn't evil like these other people. Handling that... That was just a part of the challenge.

"We're in control," Walt assured him.

Jesse looked up at him. He didn't look as convinced.

"Trust me. Let me start by meeting with Saul. You lay low, be careful, and that's it. Do not, and I repeat, do not, contact Badger. Or any of those losers. You have to stay out of this." Walt paused. "That's what we do. Now eat."

Jesse started to object. "I told you, I'm not-"

"God dammit, Jesse." Walter shook his head. "Make one thing easy at least. Just eat."

With an irritated look, Jesse reached for a french fry.

Walter picked up his scotch. You, he reminded himself, are the one in control.


	7. Chapter 7

He couldn't say with certainty whether it had come with age or this year's brushes with death, but Walter increasingly realized how easy it was to take for granted life's small events. Just like good health, there were so many mundane, sometimes boring details in life that truly weren't noticed or appreciated until they were compromised.

Like breakfast.

Breakfast with his family was not as frequent as it used to be. Nor were any meals for that matter. When they did happen, Walter felt a sense of normalcy that was almost comforting. The issues that stressed him in that old life were barely an afterthought now.

But things were different as well. He now calculated how to handle his family, what delicate balance to keep, and when distance was required. The condo was quite convenient.

Despite all of that, he felt a particular sense of pride that morning as he made blueberry pancakes for his wife and son. Skyler seemed to be in a good mood, smiling and engaging in polite conversation. She was a tough one to interpret nowadays. While her own hands were involved in his business, laundering money no less, her worry superseded her loyalty at times. At present, he tolerated Skyler's emotions and judgment of him, as long as it meant time with the kids.

"These are really good, Dad. Like really, really good."

He smiled at his son. Junior was always thrilled to have him there, and that made it worthwhile, regardless of Skyler's disposition of the day. And being near Holly, being able to hold her- he would take any opportunity that he could get. She was getting so big every day now.

"Don't you think these are good, Mom?" Walt Jr. persisted through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Swallow, please." Skyler glanced briefly at Walt to give him a polite smile. "But yes. Very good. Thanks, Walt."

Walt smiled at his wife, but her eyes soon returned to her cup of coffee. Before he could think of some polite conversation to make, Walt Jr. began to talk about a new teacher that had recently started at the school. His school. God, he felt distance from his old job now.

Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing from his pocket.

Skyler immediately shot him a look. "Who is that, Walt? At eight o'clock in the morning?"

She really looked for any reason to criticize him now... He eyed her patiently. "It's probably a wrong number, Skyler." He pulled out his cell phone and looked at the number on the caller-ID.

Jesse.

Why?

"I don't even know anyone from this area code," he lied, words coming smoothly and with a chuckle. "Just like I thought."

This was his primary phone. Jesse knew better. For a brief moment he felt concerned, but then pushed that thought aside as he turned the ringer off and hastily pushed the phone back into his pocket.

Skyler kept a suspicious look but said nothing.

With perfect timing, the soft cry of Holly sounded from the family room. Skyler began to push her chair back, but Walt was already to his feet.

"I'll take care of her," he assured, gesturing for her to stay at the table.

Skyler remained seated. She turned her attention back to their son. "Junior, do you want more juice? There's more in the fridge."

Walt walked briskly into the other room as Holly's cries became more insistent. He reached into her playpin to pick her up. As usual, that was all it took and she quieted as he brought her to his chest. "Sh... That's it..." he cooed. "Everything's okay."

He felt the phone in his pocket begin to vibrate again. He shifted her weight to one arm to pull out the phone once more.

What did Jesse want?

With a frustrated sigh, he called back to the kitchen. "Looks like she needs a diaper change. We'll be back in a minute." He walked with Holly slowly towards the nursery.

Once in the room, he quietly shut the door behind him. The call had ended but he hurriedly pushed the button to redial.

Jesse answered on one ring. "Yo, Mr. White."

"Jesse." He kept his voice quiet. "What the hell is wrong with you? Not this number. Never this number."

"You weren't answering the other-"

"Of course not. It's off." Walter took a deep breath. "Are you hurt? Is there an emergency? Because otherwise I have no reason to be talking to you right now."

"No, but-"

"But what?" Walt snapped. "What is it? I'm having breakfast with my family right now." Holly made a noise and he rocked her gently.

"I have serious issues over here, Mr. White," Jesse hissed over the line. "Someone is following me."

Walter closed his eyes in frustration and resisted the urge to immediately disconnect the call. An earlier him may have been concerned by a call like this. But now? It was not unusual for Tyrus, or Mike, or someone to be out there. "Jesse. Listen, you're being paranoid."

"I'm not. You listen." Jesse's voice was urgent, slightly frantic. "They were behind me the whole way home last night. I tried to ignore it, like maybe I was imagining it. But yo - this morning? I-"

"I need to hang up now, Jesse." Walter smiled at his young daughter. She was content now, eyes locked on him. The innocence there was remarkable. He couldn't imagine having ever felt that way.

"But-"

"I'm meeting with Saul at eleven if you want to be there. Don't call me again." Walt disconnected the call before Jesse could object and forced the phone back into his pocket.

Boring, mundane life events. Yeah. Those were what he missed.

He shook his head slightly and made his way back to the kitchen, bringing Holly to the table with him. "Look who's all cleaned up," he said lightly as he sat down and balanced her on his lap. He didn't miss Skyler's suspicious gaze.

* * *

Past the uneasy waiting room of disgruntled miscreants, degenerates, and assorted criminals, Walter sat in Saul's office and took in his lawyer's flamboyant suit. Never in a million years would he buy a tie like that, even know where to, never mind sport it. He despised it. But for Saul, it just came with the territory, and was somehow appropriate.

He was just finishing bringing Saul up to speed when Jesse strode into the office, door closing heavily behind him. Walter watched his partner enter to the room with his own ridiculous sense of oversized style without a word. As Jesse dropped into the seat beside him on the couch, he caught the familiar odor of marijuana masked behind cigarettes.

"And here's the man of the hour," Saul greeted with a smirk, sitting on the edge of his desk comfortably. "So your partner here just explained to me what's been going on the last couple of weeks. And I just have to say - Wow. Way to keep yourself busy."

Jesse shot Walter a look that seemed to accusingly ask 'what did you tell him?' before turning a glare towards Saul.

Saul continued with his sarcastic tone. "Now, Jesse, I'm not one to judge, but it's already the beginning of November. That isn't much time to get to Santa's good list, is it? What exactly do you plan to do with all that coal?"

"Very fucking funny," Jesse answered. "I didn't drive over here to listen to you be a dick."

"Anyway." Walter cleared his throat. "Saul. You were just saying that you already knew about the drug bust."

"Yup. Heard all about it." Saul crossed his arms over his chest. "Lucky for you guys, your little friend, Brandon Mayhew, isn't connected at the moment. Which you should be very thankful for considering his last run-in with the DEA. They don't take kindly to striking deals more than once."

Jesse felt a wave of relief course through him. Badger was okay.

"But just out of curiosity, Jesse," Saul continued. "Why are we giving this stuff away for free? Is this a friends and family discount that I'm not aware of?"

Jesse ignored the comment. "So who got caught with it?"

Saul cleared his throat. "A guy named Horatio Lopez. Pretty new name out there, and it's also his first time arrested. Now, he hasn't talked. Yet. It doesn't mean he won't."

"You don't know Badger was the one that sold it to him," Jesse objected.

"That's true," Saul agreed. "But we also don't know that he didn't. We don't know how many hands your little charity crossed. But when it's pure blue crystal we're talking about... People on both sides want to know where it came from." He gave Jesse a critical look. "Stealing from the lab? Not a good idea."

Jesse shot an icy look to Walter again. Stealing? he silently asked. You didn't have to mention that part...

"But, hey, no judgment here," Saul persisted. "This is yet another reminder of why you give a cut to the true professionals that take care of actual business. You guys suck at this."

"So we're okay," Jesse said.

"In meth manufacturing world of 'okay'? Sure, yeah. Right now you're okay."

"And what now?" Walter asked.

"Lay low." Saul shrugged. "What else can you do? Everything will be watched."

Jesse looked up. "Someone is following me," he said. "Since yesterday."

Saul look unphased. "In case you haven't figured it out, you should probably assume someone is always tailing you. Gus has eyes everywhere."

"So..." Jesse continued, "you mean I should ignore it?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Saul replied. He pushed himself up from his desk to stand and pointed at his watch. "Guys, as beautiful as our time together is - my hours are precious. Did you not notice my other delightful clients patiently waiting outside while you cut them in line?"

With that, their meeting ended. Walt and Jesse left Saul's office, exiting through the crowded waiting area, and returned to the strip mall parking lot outside. They had not yet exchanged a word, but Walt soon broke the silence.

"Well, thank you for already wasting half of my day, Jesse."

Jesse turned to look at him. "What?"

Walt faced him. They stood a few feet from the first row of parked cars. "To start- calling me, on my personal cell phone no less, while I'm in the middle of breakfast with my family?"

"How was I supposed to know where you were?" Jesse objected. He silently acknowledged that his call had been a mistake- but he'd panicked. How was he to know Walt wasn't also being followed?

"And now? A meeting that told us... what exactly?" Walt questioned. "Told us nothing?" He admitted to himself that most of his frustration came from the interrupted breakfast; while in truth, really, most meals with Skyler now weren't idyllic.

"It told us they don't have anything. Did you miss that part?" Jesse responded with a scowl. "That we're okay? Look, you were the one that wanted to meet with him, remember?"

"Well, what choice did I have?" Walt challenged, taking a step closer towards him to lower his voice. "I'm trying to cover our bases, take care of it. You think I'd be here if you didn't put us in these situations?"

Jesse grew defensive. "Yo, you put us in this situation," he said stiffly.

"Me?" Walter laughed. "Really. How is that?"

"You're the one that came over. Fucking searched my house. You made me-"

"I never made you do anything," Walt snapped. He shook his head.

Jesse felt all his anger begin to boil inside of him. Walt was suddenly standing too close to him and he felt resentful. It was always his fault? Really? Walt could wash his hands of everything? He had nothing to do with their situation?

"Listen, Jesse, you have to-" Before Walt could continue, he was caught off guard as Jesse reached up and shoved him.

"Just back off, bitch!" Jesse exclaimed irritably. "For once!"

Walt stumbled back a step, surprised, and then regained his footing. He let a moment of silence pass between them and gave Jesse a critical look. "Feel better?"

Jesse did feel slightly better for a moment until Walt stepped closer to him again. He raised up his hands. "Listen." He glanced around the parking cautiously. "People are watching. You don't get it."

"Look, I get it," Walt answered. He paused for a moment, watching Jesse's eyes dart around to the different cars in the parking lot. His own irritation subsided. "Jesse, I already told you that we will handle this. I need you to take the advice to lay low. No phone calls. No panic. None of this."

Jesse listened with only partial attention as he scanned the cars, looking for the familiar one that had been driving him crazy. He knew that it was somewhere nearby.

Walt watched Jesse carefully. "If someone is out there, so be it."

Jesse finally looked back at Walt, meeting his eye. "Ignore it."

Walt nodded, not missing Jesse's dubious expression. "Ignore it. Like there's nothing to be afraid of."

* * *

That evening, Jesse noticed the same elusive car behind him on his drive home. He changed his route slightly to observe what the car would do. For ten minutes, it disappeared. He briefly felt relief and told himself that maybe it had really been his imagination. But sure enough, the same car reappeared a short distance behind him before long.

His gripped the steering wheel tightly the rest of the way home, knuckles white. The car varied its distance, and then instantly disappeared once he was blocks from his house.

Ignore it? It was hard to ignore. Yet no one else seemed to blink.

He could hear his heart beat every step from his car to his front door.

He understood that his actions had put himself in a position of suspicion from Gus. That in itself made him increasingly nervous. Like many times before, he found himself wishing he could turn back the clock. He tried to blame everything on someone else, maybe Badger, but couldn't. Any of them would have done the same thing that Badger had done. And Jesse had basically given him permission. And Walt? Walt wasn't the that had stolen from the lab.

Being home alone was suddenly terrifying. He felt like someone might burst in at any minute, tell him how they knew everything, had overheard him or saw him, and how they were there to finally finish him, erase him as a risk. There would be a gun in his face any minute...

Maybe it had really come to that. And Walt couldn't protect him, no matter what ultimatum he gave. And did he really want him to try? Walt had a family to protect.

He checked the lock on his doors several times.

It brought him back to Gale with a sickening sense of guilt. Gale didn't even know to be afraid, he didn't know to be on the lookout, not to open the door when Jesse knocked...

It was too early to sleep. He couldn't sleep anyway.

He watched TV and smoked a bowl before realizing it didn't make him feel better. In fact, he felt even more on edge.

He tried music, but after a few minutes became fearful that he wouldn't hear someone breaking in.

It was agitation. Anxiety. He wished he could fast forward a week ahead to see everything was okay.

Upstairs in his bedroom, he looked out the windows tentatively. What if someone was watching right now? It was so dark out, he couldn't see anything. Was he wrong to feel like a target? They hadn't proved anything. Someone watching was just ... part of the job.

There was no one to even talk to. He could text Mr. White - no way he was calling again - but what would that get him? Another 'don't be paranoid' rebuke?

There was one person he could try. Another person he still trusted.

He dialed the number tentatively, his subconscious reminding him it was a bad idea.

The line rang five times and Jesse was about to disconnect when the deep, even voice came over the line clearly with one stoic word. "Kid."

"You're there," Jesse began. "Do you-"

"Now stop right there," Mike interrupted, his tone terse. "I call you, remember? Not the other way around. You know that."

Jesse remained quiet for a moment. He could hear the sound of the TV, or a movie, on Mike's end. He eyed his bedroom windows, and then spoke cautiously. "Do you have someone following me?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Kid... No one's following you."

The even keeled way that Mike answered, without even surprise at the question, made him more suspicious. "I know someone is."

"What do you want me to say?"

Jesse didn't know. "Tell me why."

Mike sighed. "Are you sure you want to have this conversation with me?"

Jesse wasn't sure. Was Mike a friend, a threat, a stranger? Before getting to know him, he would have said a threat for sure. But did he really even know him now? This was Gus's guy. He had to remember that. No matter the tolerance they now had for each other, at the end of the day, Mike worked for Gus.

But wasn't he the one giving Gus reports? Why have someone else follow him now? Wasn't Mike the one keeping tabs?

He was suddenly reminded of Mr. White's disdain for Mike and swallowed.

"Kid." Mike paused. "Are we done?"

No, Jesse wanted to say. Tell me the truth. You might actually know the truth.

The line went dead before he could actually make a response. He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the screen for a moment.

Mike knew. He had to know. Not just about the tail, but why there was a tail. Yet no questions.

He walked over to the nightstand beside his bed and slowly opened the drawer. Inside he eyed a small tin box and reached for it. The contents of this box drove a hollow feeling of self-condemnation and remorse through his gut. Maybe he would lose everyone's trust altogether. Even Walt. He didn't even know how the man would react. And Mike or even worse Gus? Forget it. That would probably be the final straw.

He opened the box.

Despite the small quantity, the blue meth felt heavy in his hands. It taunted him but there was a thrill as well. It wasn't much, maybe enough for a few good hits, but the whole idea of having it gave him a mixed feeling of both fear and comfort.

You should have given it all to Badger, he thought.

He wasn't even going to smoke it. Was he? … No. He couldn't do that... Could he? Then why couldn't he get rid of all of it?

He was out of excuses.

If Jane was here, she'd give him that smile that was mixed with a smirk... slink up to him with that playful, teasing nature. Smoke it, she'd say seductively. Who would it hurt?

Everyone.

He shook his thoughts away and quickly returned the cover. He put it back in the nightstand, shoving the drawer shut hastily.

You're by yourself in this one, he told himself. You don't have her, you don't have it, or any of them.

He left the room, and went downstairs. Enough of the thoughts, the anxiety. Maybe it was still part of his imagination anyway.

He peered out the front window once more.

His eyes locked on the familiar car sitting directly across the street.


	8. Chapter 8

It's been a while since I updated! To those of you actually reading - I apologize for that. I hope to keep this going at a better pace, but the last few months ran away from me! Appreciate any feedback as well. Thank you to those that do leave it.

* * *

Walt looked around the lab, taking in the sight of the massive, stainless steel equipment with a sigh. A new day. He vaguely recalled a quote about a new day being a chance to leave yesterday's troubles behind and start a new beginning.

Whoever said that must have been in a very different business, he realized.

It was possible to move forward. Keep things business as usual, Walt thought to himself. No panic, no second guessing or trying to erase anything. It was what it was. He wished he could teach Jesse to think that way. Instead the kid seemed to incessantly pick yesterday's troubles back up and constantly second guess.

But this was nothing. It wasn't the first time they had something to worry about. He tried to convince himself that in the realm of things, this was a small hiccup compared to some of the things they had been through. How many times had they panicked, and thought it was the end?

He thought back to Tuco and their fear of being loose ends that could too easily be cut. One of endless examples. They were so naive then, without a clue what would be ahead of them. He remembered the revolver Jesse had purchased in panic, and smirked as he remembered challenging him to figure out how to simply open the barrel of the gun.

Naive, indeed...

While this lab was quite a contrast to the days of their unforgettable RV, the thought of their humble, often reckless, beginning tugged at a part of his conscience in a way he couldn't describe.

The sound of the lab door opening made Walt look up, and he watched his partner walk down the stairs, taking slow, heavy steps.

"You're late," Walt told him. He had been late himself, arriving just ten minutes earlier, but didn't mention that.

Jesse shrugged as he made it to the last step and walked towards him.

Walt noticed a blue and silver can in Jesse's hand and gestured toward it. "What's that?"

"A lot of coffee for people that don't like coffee," Jesse answered. He raised it to his lips and took a long sip.

"Red Bull?" Walt eyed the label. "Since when do you drink that? You do realize that can is just filled with chemical garbage."

"Yeah, but it's awesome with vodka," Jesse answered. He again took another long sip, leaning his head back to finish the drink. He then partially crushed the can in his hand and met Walt's eye with a smirk. "Don't worry, Mr. White. No vodka."

Walt eyed the dark circles under Jesse's eyes for a moment before the younger man turned away to walk a few feet over to the garbage. He watched him toss the crushed can away. "If you're drinking it because you're tired... you should remember a little concept called a caffeine crash."

"Whatever. I drank two of them."

"Not sleeping?"

Jesse met his eye briefly, and then shook his head and looked away. "Not really." He felt the man's eyes on him and walked away to go suit up. Was it worth it to try to put his intense paranoia into words?

Walt shook his head, but stayed silent for a minute, watching Jesse carefully. "I was just thinking back on Tuco. Random, I know. Crazy to think about it now. But-"

"Who cares," Jesse cut him off abruptly. He turned and gave him a look. "Seriously, Mr. White."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"No, but I don't care." Jesse slid off one sneaker at a time and kicked them aside. "That was ages ago. And honestly not something I really want to think about."

Walt eyed him carefully. He cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Jesse's voice kept an edge. "But you're the one that always tells me to let stuff in the past stay there. Why bring it up then?"

"Fine," Walt acquiesced. "No talk of Tuco." He paused. "Anyway, now that you're here, let's start. I need to leave a bit early today."

Jesse frowned as he continued suiting up. He knew exactly what that meant. That meant he would be the one stuck by himself cleaning the equipment. "Why?"

"I have an appointment and then I have to pick up the kids."

"You know, if you've gotta lot of stuff to do... I can cook alone."

"No," Walter answered, a little too quickly. He caught Jesse's disconcerted look and shook his head. "Not that you can't, Jesse. But you don't need to."

"Yeah, sure." Jesse wanted to accuse him once again of not trusting him, but kept it to himself. No use in starting an argument. Instead he continued to suit up. "What kind of appointment?"

Walt hesitated. "PET scan." There was a huge segment of his life that he didn't want Jesse involved in. This was part of it. But then again, what was the point in keeping it from him? There was already so much Jesse knew about his family and his health that he couldn't keep much from him at this point if he tried.

"Oh. That kind of appointment." Jesse was quiet as he finished getting dressed. "How is..." he struggled to find what he wanted to say. "How's all that going?"

"It's going. Today is more... routine, I guess you'd call it."

"Routine, yeah." Jesse focused on the lab in front of him. He never knew what to say in these conversations. He didn't want to ask questions, but at the same time, he was nervous not to know the truth. He realized he should probably be more proactive and ask how everything was going once in a while... But he was always afraid of the answer. He wasn't sure what would happen once the answer changed.

"Just part of the inevitable future ahead of me," Walt responded wryly. Jesse was quiet now, and Walt was reminded why he avoided bringing this topic up. It was similar to when it came up with his own family. Jesse always got sullen when the conversation touched upon his diagnosis or his treatments. He knew it brought back memories of his aunt. "It's routine, Jesse," he assured.

"Yeah, fine. I heard you." Jesse moved away and started towards the equipment. "Let's cook." The words had barely left his mouth when his phone started to ring.

He glanced towards his jacket behind him on the coat rack and seemed to hesitate.

"If it's Mike," Walt began. "Not today."

Jesse glanced at him briefly before heading back to his jacket. He fished out the cell phone from the pocket and glanced at the caller ID. He considered not answering but then gave in and picked it up. "Yo," he began.

Walt watched his partner carefully. It wasn't Mike. Or was it? Did he say "yo" to Mike? Possibly. It was a frequent part of Jesse's vocabulary. Before he could think much about it, he noticed an immediate change in Jesse's posture.

"What's going on?" Jesse said, his voice rising. Suddenly, his expression changed, his eyes widening slightly. "Yo," he said again. "Calm down... Dude... I can't understand you. What happened?"

"Jesse," Walt began.

Jesse waved his hand at him with the implication of 'be quiet'. He was listening intently to the phone now. "Uh-huh... Fuck. When? …. But- look, I get it alright?" He paused. "Where are you? … Okay. Okay. I'll try. I -" He sighed. "Fine. Okay. Bye."

When the call ended, Walt spoke up again. "Who was that?"

"Pete." Jesse looked up, his eyes filled with trepidation. "Something happened to Badger."

Walt glanced up at the cameras, one quick jolt of fear going through him. "Jesse." He said his name forcefully.

Jesse caught his tone and glanced at the cameras himself. "Fuck them," he said under his breath. Then he just clenched his fists. "Fuck."

"What happened?"

"I don't know what happened," Jesse answered stiffly. "Look, Mr. White. I need to go."

"Jesse."

"Don't say it." Jesse looked at him.

"You can't."

"The hell I can't," Jesse snapped.

"Listen to me." Walt approached him. He kept his voice calm but firm. "You can't go."

"Why?" Jesse looked up at him. They were face to face now. And he knew why. He knew exactly why, so he didn't know why he was asking. He didn't know why he was asking Walt to be the voice of reason. He knew damn well. But the voice in his heart was fighting the voice in his head.

"Think about it."

"I am," Jesse insisted. He kept his voice low. "Pete says it's bad. They're at the hospital. I need to-"

"Think about it," Walt repeated.

Jesse's brow furrowed. He hated Walter for a moment. Why did he get to handle everything in stride?

"You said it yourself," Walt continued. "They're watching you."

"Then they know we're friends. They-"

"Jesse, if you-"

"They know!" Jesse persisted, trying not to raise his voice.

"Hold on," Walt interrupted. "Just calm down for a minute." It was ridiculous, a conversation like this in whispers.

"What if it was you in my position," Jesse challenged. "What if it was your son or-"

"I would never be in the position you're in, Jesse," Walt answered, somewhat curtly. "Your position involves a chain of actions that I would never do."

Jesse let the comment, somewhat of a beratement, slide by him. He knew what would happen if he responded. He didn't need to hear that he was a fuck-up again. He didn't need to be reminded of actions having consequences and all that bullshit. "I need to see him." He hated that his voice faltered.

"I know. But not today." Walt shook his head. "You don't even know what happened."

"You don't even care, do you?" Jesse began. "You don't care what happens."

"Lower your voice. This has nothing to do with me, Jesse. It-"

"Which is why you don't give a shit, right, Mr. White?" Jesse's eyes narrowed. "That's exactly what it is. It has nothing to do with you, so you don't care. It's all about the business and money."

Walt met his glare without blinking. "Lower your voice," he repeated, with more authority this time. "And yes, it is about the business. It's always about the business. And we need to cook."

Jesse grew frustrated. "And if I leave?"

"I think you would be very stupid to leave," Walt responded edgily. He watched Jesse's face, seeing the mix of emotions, and with that he walked away and started towards the lab equipment. Time to start the first step in the cook process. He knew Jesse well enough now to read into his body language, his tone, the way he was speaking... He wasn't going to leave. Not now. Not knowing that he was being watched.

As expected, Jesse followed Walt, somewhat begrudgingly, as his mind grew cloudy with dark thoughts. How bad was it? Was Badger okay? Pete always seemed to exaggerate. About everything. Maybe this time too. And was this random? Was it Gus? Maybe it was all coincidence. It wasn't like Badger was a saint. But if it was Gus, was this the real warning? Was Badger ratted out by the guy Saul said was involved? Maybe it was even that guy's crew.

"Listen. Jesse."

Jesse looked up and met Mr. White's gaze. The man almost looked sympathetic.

"I know he's your friend." Walt softened his tone. "But don't compromise yourself."

"And when we finish today?"

Walt shook his head. "I wouldn't suggest it."

Jesse's let out a breath of exasperation.

"You put yourself in this situation," Walt answered before Jesse could speak. "Don't make it worse."

Jesse couldn't argue. He had put himself in this situation. He didn't need a reminder. He put Badger in this situation. Little actions that caused a snowballing chain of reactions that eventually got someone hurt. Now Badger was hurt. His conscience became this dark sea of emotions. He became he own worst enemy. And everyone hurt. Like Jane. Jane was clean. Jane hadn't faltered. Not until-

"Jesse..."

Walt's hand was on his arm now and Jesse jerked it away. He glared at him. He wasn't angry at Walt. Was he? He didn't know. But his frustration caused the reaction anyway.

"Can we cook?" Walt insisted.

Jesse suddenly felt incredibly lonely. Was there no one he could express any of this to? He couldn't say it out loud. He would get that patronizing look, the shake of the head, a stiff rebuke. He couldn't explain this feeling, this anxiety, in words anyway.

Jesse eyed the phone in his hands. Skinny Pete's panicked voice, strained with emotion, replayed in his head. Not good, he'd said.

His pulse was fast. He wondered if it was the situation or the Red Bull.

But he didn't have much of a choice.

"Fine," he said. "Let's cook."


End file.
